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Guy frequently keeps this blog updated with thoughts, challenges, interviews and more!

Tag: sword class

I’ve been rushed off my feet with a plethora of interesting projects, including a card game version of Fiore’s art of arms, an upcoming trip to Oulu, and finding out the hard way that my youngest child is lactose intolerant, so time for blogging has been severely curtailed. I hope that the next few weeks have more free time!

First up, last week’s beginners course. This was week 5 out of 8. We are proceeding apace, and got them through to step three of first drill, as well as introducing the dagger disarm flowdrill. The class ran like so:

In the warm-up I introduced them to the plank, and as a couple showed up late, we reinforced the 20-pushups rule. I ran them all through the 4 guards drill, then the 4 steps and 3 turns, then added the stick. It was a slaughterfest, so I retaught them the aim of the game, and we did it again.

We then rechecked the correct placement of weight on the feet, using pressure, and had them pay attention to it in free footwork practice. Then I introduced them to their tailbones, using the same pressure test to establish the correct orientation of the tailbone relative to the pelvis to most easily transfer incoming horizontal force into the ground. Then I had them pay attention to either that or the weight distribution on their feet while moving around. I like giving students a sense of following their interests, and being engaged with the process of their training.

From there we reviewed the 3 disarms that they know, from 1st, 3rd and 9th masters. Then we put them together into the flow drill. THis went pretty well, and most students could see straight away which was the weakest link, so I then had them train that in isolation. Either the weakest individual technique, or the overall choreography, as they saw fit.

This lead us to 7pm, and swords, straight into the cutting drill, part one. Note that we have now dropped many of the preceding exercises, as a rocket discards empty fuel tanks. After letting them practise for a bit, I stopped them and demonstrated the negative effects of tension when striking, using the tyre. It tends to open their eyes to the Art when they see me strike hard with the sword, without closing my hand on the hilt. The mantra then: “long and low and smooth and clean”…

After some more cutting practice, we went over first drill steps one to three, and then to the book to show them how we justify step three academically. They finished off by going over steps one to three again. I promised them step four next week….

And delivered. Week 6 was a chance to review progress, and make sure last week’s lessons were still in place. After the warmup we did the four guards drill, then reviewed how to find the correct tailbone placement, and then back into the drill, paying attention to the tailbone. I then introduced them formally to our drill (for which I must invent a proper name- if you have any ideas let me know) in which you stand opposite a partner, and with minimum force make him move a foot, while he is trying to do the same to you. The point is to control his force and direct your own. After they had been doing it for a while I demonstrated with a young beginner, who was much smaller than me— and asked the question, how do I get useful training in that set-up? The answer being by using the barest minimum of effort, and letting her push me to the very edge of balance— and running it so close that I would sometimes be forced to step. Then had them seek out smaller, weaker opponents to practise this idea on.

From here I shamelessly plugged my new dagger book, a shipment of which arrived last week, by reading out the instructions for the flowdrill from it, which they then practiced. After which we reviewed the 2nd and 3rd plays of 1st master, then had them break the flowdrill with them.

I then showed them the 4th play, countering the 3rd, in the Book, emphasising the turn of the dagger to counter the lock.

This all took us only to ten to seven, but I figured their arms are getting strong enough for 40 minutes with the sword. Straight into part one of the cutting drill, then we stopped and went over the guards tutta porta di ferro and dente di zenghiaro in some detail, then returned to the cutting drill to practise them in situ. Sure enough the guards were much better.

Then 1st drill, steps 1-3, emphasising that it is “always my turn”: just because it is the partner’s turn to strike does not mean that we stop practising. In step one, if he is attacking with mandritto fendente, I am working on a perfect tutta porta di ferro.

Then the promised step 4, which I demonstrated with a champagne flute. Yes, really. It gave them a familiar mechanic to apply to the unfamiliar technique. Working on steps 3 and 4 took us to time. Only two weeks left, but I expect to have them through the first 7 plays of the first master of dagger, and all four steps of 2nd drill by the end. Watch this space!

 

On Tuesday March 5th we began the 2013 Spring beginners’ course. The goal of the course is always the same: to provide a safe and approachable way for interested people to begin training in the Art of Swordsmanship. As usual, we start them off with Fiore’s Art of Arms, not least as this has the most real-world applicable mechanics and demands only normal range of motion. It also has a breadth of weaponry, which allows us several approaches to the same fundamental principles.

This course is unusually undersubscribed, with only 10 people in attendance by 6pm. So keen readers of this blog will find the content and organisation of this course to be quite different to the last one. As those that know me know, I never plan classes as such, as there is no way to predict the specific make-up of the class, in terms of experience, interests and aptitudes. As far as possible, I tailor all classes to the needs of the students present. One of the purposes of writing up this beginners’ course is to provide a second example of a correctly-done course that is totally different to another correctly-done course. I intend also to write up a full comparison of the two, explaining the reasons behind the differences.

We begin, of course, with the book, Il Fior di Battaglia. I showed them the book on the lectern, and made it clear that they were always welcome to check what we are doing in class against the source. Then the safety briefing, which boils down to one rule: Everybody must finish class healthier than they started it. And is followed by what we expect of all students: Behave at all times as a reasonable adult.

Then we got cracking on the warm-up, taking it gently. The group as a whole are reasonably able to make their bodies go where their minds tell it, just the usual assortment of weaknesses brought on by the 21st century lifestyles we all lead. Unusually we did not go through the basic falling practice, just did the roll-and-up exercise at the end of the warm-up. During the push-ups (taught swiftly from scratch) we separated the skills required into two: keeping the body straight, and bending and straightening the arms under load. We did them separately and then together, then let them practice whichever bit they found harder (arms, body or combination). The warm-up began and ended with the swinging exercise, and I was careful to point out why, thus introducing the idea of running diagnostics to assess the effectiveness of a given practice. Towards the end of the warm-up two more students showed up, having got the time wrong. We could not let them join in, as they had missed the safety briefing, but to their credit they stayed and watched the whole class, and we took them through much of the material during free training.

I then had them do the four steps, passare and tornare first, followed by accrescere and discressere. Then to the book to see the text where Fiore wrote about them. While we were there we went to the four guards, longa, dente di zenghiaro, porta di ferro and frontale, then did them, one at a time, with passing steps. Of course, I used our mnemonic “grab his throat, break his jaw, thumbs in eyes, head on floor”. (For a bookful of such poetic gems, see The Armizare Vade Mecum) Once they had tried them all, I gave them a couple of minutes to practice whatever they could remember, however best suited them, on their own. This done, I pointed out that they had just demonstrated to me that they could perfectly well practice without help, and so could train at home without supervision.

To illustrate the guards and transitioning between them as a way of describing motion and therefore time, I had the class stab each other gently with daggers— the one being stabbed could see the guards happening as natural elements of the motion of drawing and striking. After introducing them to the destroyed-by-medieval-weapons modern fencing mask, we then repeated the stabbings with everyone masked up. This lead naturally into the first play of the dagger, the 1st master’s disarm. First, they did it. Then we looked at it in the book, then did it again. I then smowed them how to check for lines of strength and weakness, and we did it again. The inevitable “wouldn’t you get cut” question duly was asked, so I demonstrated the technique using a big sharp kitchen knife, then they did it again. Then to the book for the second play, the attacker’s counter. Here I made the point that this is a knightly art, and so for professional warriors. There is no moral virtue in self defence here, this is for killing your enemies and gaining renown. So the attacker can counter the defence, and we are as versed in attacking as we are in defending.

This all took us to 7.15, so I showed them how to get a sword off the rack without blinding anyone, and we went through the salute a couple of times, and, as we had plenty of room, straight into swinging the sword from shoulder to shoulder, while passing forwards. After a few reps to get comfortable, I had them pay attention to leading with the blade. I always demonstrate this with a senior (in this case Ken), and have him stab me if I attack leading with the foot. All students were then issued with an imaginary homicidal Ken to strike against. After some more reps, we went to the book to look at the proper cutting lines (jaw to knee) and I mentioned forehand and backhand (mandritto and roverso). And it was back for more reps, before finishing with the salute.

Note that we only did 3 “techniques” but the first and last were done several times with the option of a different focus for the mind, such as leading with the sword, or the line of the blow. In this way a lot of information gets packed into a small number of physical actions. The first iteration is always just “do this action”, with no distracting instructions. Better ways of doing the action come later.

In all, we are off to a very encouraging start!

This is not the end. It is not the beginning of the end. And frankly, while the course itself may be concluded, it is not even the end of the beginning. But the last class of the current beginners’ course is now over, and while it was not as well attended as I’d have liked (only 17 of the beginners could come, though some of the missing 7 have been seen since), those that did come did a pretty good job of remembering the course content so far, and then building on it.

The class began with the warm-up, of course (remind me to post about warm-ups- practically nobody gets what they are for). Then we ran through the basic footwork elements using Fiore’s terms (accrescere, discrescere, passare, tornare; volta stabile, meza volta, tutta volta). Only the turns needed revision. Then I threw in the stick exercise, and the four guards drill.

We then ran through the first seven plays of the first master of dagger, before segueing to the dagger disarm flowdrill. That allowed the students to see a lot of material in a short time, and pick the worst bits to practise. The key is to pick something you can recall, but can’t do well yet. We then went over the 3rd and 4th plays of the 1st master (again!), picking up some extra detail, and referring to THE BOOK. I also made the point that while in the previous exercise they had practised what they needed personally, I had then chosen what was best for the class as a whole. The distinction between what one individual needs and what the group needs can be pretty stark; a further encouragement (I hope) for students to stick around for free training, or book private lessons.

We switched to swords at 6.45, and walked through part 1 of the cutting drill. Posta longa was the clear group weak point, so I pointed it out and had them emphasise it in the next round of part one. We then walked through first drill, step by step, making the point that Fiore talks about remedy masters (step 2) counter-remedy masters (step 3) and counter-counter-remedy masters (step 4). We the  repeated the cutting drill, as a mnemonic aid to first drill, giving them leave to act out the steps of the drill when the reached the appropriate point in the cutting drill.

I then taught them steps 1 and 2 of second drill, then added the third, then the fourth, pointing out the mechanical similarity with the 3rd and 4th plays of the first master of the dagger. In other words, after only two months, this group could as a whole pick up a new four-step longsword drill, without too much difficulty, and well enough that those that came along for the syllabus day seminar last Saturday could remember the drills having been shown them once.

I will leave a detailed summary of the content and structure of this course for a later post, but for now just notice that the whole thing, within each class and from week to week, has been intervalling up from super-basic solo actions to quite complex pair drills.

I look forward to seeing how many of this crop of beginners are still training a year from now: 50% is very healthy, less than 25% and I’ll have to reconsider my approach…

There has been a lot of hoo-ha on the electronical interweb regarding the USFCA (the American sport fencing coaching body) introducing instructor training and certification for “Historical Fencing”. One the one hand, there is no doubt that they, or any other body concerned with teaching the art of teaching, may have much in the way of pedagogical experience and a systematic approach that might be very useful for any historical fencing teacher. On the other, it is frankly a joke to imagine that a sport fencing body has any business pronouncing on who may or may not be fit to lead a historical fencing class.

Before I sail off on a thoroughly enjoyable rant, let me first point out that I offer instructor training and certification in my school, and I expect everyone within my school to acknowledge the certification, and nobody outside my school to give a monkey’s regarding who is or is not qualified to teach my syllabus. I would hope that eventually the trickle of trained instructors my school is producing will lead to a general feeling in the community at large that if you have a certificate from my school, you deserve the benefit of the doubt and can be hired unseen, but that’s as far as it goes.

In my view, before you can have a teaching qualification, you must first have a discrete body of knowledge that that qualification refers to. i.e. an established syllabus. Otherwise you have no basis for judging competence. A scuba-diving instructor’s qualification should not land you a job as a tennis coach. But, extensive experience in training scuba divers may make you a great teacher of practical skills, which you can then apply to your new-found interest in generating the next Roger Federer.

I happen to have a pretty extensive sport fencing background, having fenced regularly and at a respectable if not desperately elevated level between 1987 and 1994. This meant that when I went off on a foil coaching course, I knew the basic syllabus well enough to take part in the course. It would be very handy if all historical fencing coaches happened to have a sport fencing background and could do likewise. But there is no sense in studying foil for a few years before taking up medieval martial arts. It’s not an efficient route to success. There is a fundamental difference between taking a sport fencing coaches’ course and applying their coaching system to my own historical swordsmanship syllabus, and expecting a sport fencing body to be able to offer any kind of certification in historical systems.

A quick look at the USFCA certification document reveals all:

Paragraph 12. Traditions, Systems, and Terminology: Examinations are not intended to examine one particular tradition (for example, the German or Italian Longsword traditions) or system (for example, Saviolo’s Rapier play). Candidates either trained in a specific system or tradition or in a generic approach to a weapon should be able to teach a lesson consistent with their training within the themes specified. The Historical Fencing Committee will develop and make available a standard list of terminology for fencing actions; candidates should be able to explain the actions taught using these terms if requested by the examiners.

If there is one thing that the last decade has taught the historical martial arts community, it ought to be this: there is NO SUCH THING as a generic approach to a weapon that has the slightest merit. Generic approaches in systems for which we have adequate source material are invariably a smokescreen for inferior researchers to hide behind. And the idea of a standard list of terminology is so staggeringly offensive I don’t know where to start. All that makes historical swordsmanship historical is brushed aside in favour of a standard language. Do they imagine that language does not affect culture? That the structures of the Italian language, for example, don’t affect Italian thought? That there is any such thing as a generic “parry”? Fiore’s rebattere is not Capoferro’s Parare is not Mcbane’s Parade. Yes, I occasionally find it useful to employ classical fencing terminology to explain a certain point, but then I also use classical music terminology, Newtonian physics, popular film references, and bad language to do the same.

And from Paragraph 13:

The use of period costume for examinations is not permitted – period protective equipment, if appropriate, can be allowed.

I’m sorry, WTF? Clothing affects movement. Period clothing is an indispensible part of the research process, and in some schools (not mine, as it happens) all training is done in period kit. So what? Does that make them unmartial? No, it makes them clearly not following the sport fencing paradigm. If you are professionally presented (I DO agree with the USFCA’s policy regarding neatness and cleanliness), I can think of no unsinister reason for this clause.

And from point b of the same paragraph:

Fencing techniques which involve a transition to grappling must stop at the establishment of the basic grip and position, and not continue to full contact grappling.

Why not? If you can’t teach basic falling you have no business whatever teaching any medieval system I have ever come across. The ONLY reason for this is that the average sport fencer is utterly untrained and incompetent to judge grappling. Perhaps they think it’s dangerous? (Which is why judo is universally banned from all competitions…oh, wait, hang on, maybe it’s not…)

And some of the questions on the “exam”, oh my dear Lord, what are they thinking?

The guard positions undergo a fundamental change through the evolution from Medieval fencing to modern fencing. This change can be described as:

a. modern fencing is much more concerned with maintaining the weapon in a position so that the point (and cutting edge in sabre) pose a threat to the opponent.

b. guard positions in Medieval and Renaissance fencing were almost entirely defensive, with a gradual evolution to the more offensive intent of the guard through the Enlightenment and into the classical and modern periods.

c. guard positions in Medieval fencing were transitory with movement through the position to another action; the guard evolved into the modern concept of a place to stay in the Renaissance and Enlightenment.

Where do I start? With evolution suggesting a gradual improvement? I’ll take my longsword against the reigning world champion epeeist, and you know what? In a stand up fight I’d kill him. Because I can take any number of little pokes if it means I can chop his arm off, or his sword in half… Longswords are better for killing people with than epees. Fact.

Or perhaps with the fact that options a through c are all wrong? A because there are point in line guards in every system. B because the author appears not to have read Viggiani. Or any other historical treatise. C because, while the best of the bunch, it is incomplete: does not Fiore have us wait in tutta porta di ferro? Yes he does. If every action is done from guard to guard, as it is, and you have read your Aristotle, you know that there must be a tempo of rest in each guard… Aaaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhh! I know Ken Mondschein is a highly qualified historian and an experienced historical fencer, but did he actually let this drivel through?

General theory, question 1: What are the parts of a typical historical sword?

I’m sorry? WTF is a typical historical sword? Fiore seems to divide the blade into three parts, Thibault into 12, smallswords often have no crossguard but longswords always do, need I go on? This arrogant, godawful disregard for the fundamentals of historicity are making my blood boil. I want to hit something, and hard.

**** (I have so far excised 6 “fuck”s from the text)

Right, that’s better. Now for the next lot of drivel

4. Distance is generally recognized in Medieval, Renaissance, and Enlightenment fencing as falling into:

A. 5 areas – out of distance, long distance, medium distance, short distance, and infighting distance

B. 4 areas – out of distance, two step distance, lunge distance, and stabbing distance

C. 3 areas – footwork distance, arm distance, and grappling or disarming distance

NONE of the above, you ignoramus. Distance per se is not discussed at all in medieval manuals. Renaissance manuals tend to favour, IIRC and I’m not going to check, out of measure, measure of the pass, measure of the lunge, and measure of the hand or arm, but don’t treat of it quite like that. Enlightenment fencing, well, smallsword really, IIRC from my last reading of Angelo, he doesn’t define different measures at all, but tends to have actions done either with a lunge or without one.

There follows this egregious excrescence of an exam a “draft curriculum which can be used for the training of fencing coaches in the techniques, theory, and teaching of one historic weapon, the Medieval Longsword”. This has many, many, utterly absurd generalities, such as under “Body position and footwork”: “If you are right handed left foot forward, reverse for left handers”, a woefully inept misunderstanding of the guard positions we see in all the medieval MSs. As a fool can plainly see, you have whichever foot forwards you want, depending on what you want to do. I could write a book on it (oops, I have). There follows a ghastly mishmash of Italianish stuff mixed up with Germanish stuff, which would leave any poor sod being taught this utter crap at a point significantly behind our average community standard of 2002.

With this document the USFCA have demonstrated beyond reasonable doubt that they are utterly and completely unqualified to examine anyone in historical fencing, still less historical European martial arts of any kind.

I agree with my esteemed colleague Randy Packer that this move on their part is dangerous in that once a certification is available, perfectly competent but uncertified instructors may find themselves unable to get insurance or use public spaces without submitting to this farcical exam process. This is deeply worrying.

But the worst of this is that it places the USFCA in the enemy camp, when really they do have a lot of useful stuff to teach us, about transmitting skills. Indeed, some parts of this document are exemplary, where the USFCA stick to their competence, such as in what to do if someone refuses to adhere to your school’s safety standards, or in structuring a group lesson. You may note that while I did attend an absolutely excellent sport fencing coaching course, I confined myself to sport fencing actions and theory while there, and did not take the exam at the end. As I explained to the teachers there, I have no need for the qualification, as it has no currency in my field. The training: useful, vital even. The qualification it lead to: irrelevant.

For those of a stout and hardy disposition who want to see this document themselves, it’s here. Be warned, you may need many push-ups or strikes on the pell to recover your sang-froid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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