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Guy's Blog

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

Tag: travel

Lucca

This instalment of the Blog of Guy is coming to you from beautiful Italy, a land where historical artefacts of astonishing antiquity are just left lying around! I shit you not, this is a place where the new buildings are anything less than 500 years old. And people seem to live and work in buildings that you would imagine American museums would be falling over themselves to disassemble stone by stone, and reconstruct inside a hermetically-controlled special exhibition space. It’s unreal. Ever since University days (in Edinburgh, with lots of old buildings everywhere), I have been involved in antiques restoration in one form or another; first restoring furniture, then restoring European swordsmanship. And now everywhere I look there are antiques: in stone, wood, iron and paint, many of them crying out for some tender loving care, all of them quietly glowing with the residue of the love their makers put into them centuries ago.

As no doubt you know, I do a lot of researching and recreating of Italian medieval and renaissance swordsmanship styles. Especially those of Fiore dei Liberi, Philippo Vadi, and Ridolfo Capoferro. So you would be forgiven for thinking that this move to Italy was all part of a deliberate plan to improve my grasp on Italian, further my research interests, and so on. But it didn’t happen that way.

In the beginning, there was plumbing. Now, let it be said that Finnish plumbing is a miracle to behold. They do central heating better than the Romans (and that is really saying something!). But one side-effect of this is that they seem to do a lot of plumbing. To whit, every 50 years or so, they rip it all out and do it again, in a process known to all as the putkiremontti. Fear it. Dread it. It is not for the faint-hearted. This means that the average dwelling is uninhabitable for a period of perhaps 3-6 months, at a cost of about 7-900euros per square metre of floor (which is how the costs are divided among the building owners). Our apartment’s turn came this year, and we got our exact dates about 6 months ago; January 12th to May 13th. Given the vast cost of the work (hello, remortgage), we immediately set about finding ways to make this affordable. The average cost of a furnished flat for 4 months in Helsinki was about 1800e per month. This is simply not within our reach, especially when the usual mortgage, service charges, and so on, are going out as before. So what to do?

Go somewhere cheaper was the obvious option. We looked at Cyprus (cheap, not great to get to though), Bali (cheap, once you get there, but very expensive flights especially at this time of year), and various other possible locations, when my oh-so-excellent wife found us an apartment here in Lucca, Italy, at a silly-cheap off-season price. I hadn’t thought we could afford Italy, of all places on the planet, but we got very lucky…

And Lucca, for a medievalist like me, is just perfection. We are inside the walls of the old town, and these are serious, keep those fucking Pisans out, walls. Round every corner there is some staggering work of art, of staggering antiquity, and just strolling around (which I am doing a lot of, as I made the very sensible decision to treat this as a proper sabbatical, and do no work that I don’t feel like, blog posts, writing and most definitely teaching included) is like being in a great architectural museum. This is helped along by the fact that a) that’s how the Lucchese have chosen to maintain their city, bless them, and b) neither the Allies nor the Axis bombed the shit out of it in WWII.

It’s also incredibly cheap, to eat, to live, to get around. We went to Pisa last Sunday, birthplace of Vadi; it cost about 20e for the four of us (my wife, two kids, and me) to go there and back on the train. We saw the tower. It leans. A lot.

Note the two little artists in the foreground, supervised by Mrs Guy.
Note the two little artists in the foreground, supervised by Mrs Guy.

 

We saw the medieval old town, and the Duomo, and the Battistero, and all sorts. Getting the kids excited about going into the Duomo was easier than I expected; I told them there was a real dead body in it, and they were super-keen to see it! San Ranieri to the rescue…

Dead bodies in glass coffins are apparently perfectly kid-friendly. Who knew?
Dead bodies in glass coffins are apparently perfectly kid-friendly. Who knew?

I was in Florence this week, which will get a blog post all of its own. There and back for 15 euros. And the trains run on time, with no help from il Duce. And here’s the kicker; when we take into account the costs of renting, of food and wine (dear god, drinkable wine at under 4e for a 1.5 litre bottle! I’ll be perfectly round, and a complete alcoholic, by the time we come home), and our flights here, it works out that we are saving about 2000 euros on our living costs over the three months we are here. (We are coming home 6 weeks before the putkiremontti ends so that our eldest daughter can get back to school for a month or so before the summer break.)

And what of income? I have been self-employed now for fifteen years, and never really let go of business, which has never been more than two weeks from bankruptcy. (Really. I hear that it’s a good idea to have about 6 months operating expenses in reserve. I have never, ever, had more than a fortnight’s, until this last year). My wife has been telling me for ages that she’s worried about me getting exhausted, just as my friends were telling me a decade ago. I need and deserve no sympathy; I have the best job in the world. But it is still a job, and lately, it has been starting to feel like one. I have been teaching way too much, and not unwinding properly. It’s a curse and a blessing that there are so few people out there with my specific skill set. So taking a three month break from teaching felt at every level like a really good idea, confirmed by the way I spent almost all of December floored by a cold turned into bronchitis.

But if I am not at the salle teaching, nor doing weekend seminars (and I have deliberately not looked for teaching opportunities here) where’s the money coming from? Well, for starters, the biggest monthly cost is the salle, which the SHMS pays for separately from my teaching time. So that’s covered. The actual teaching of classes is covered by my excellent senior students; I have been thinking for a while now that my constant presence can act as a cap on their development, so I’ll be interested to see how they are getting on when I get back. And in the meantime, a huge hat-tip and thank you to the ladies and gentlemen who have stepped into the breach and are running things in Helsinki while I’m away.

But salary? Aha, my friends, that’s the secret. The books that I have self-published over the last couple of years (re-issues of The Swordsman’s Companion and The Duellist’s Companion, Veni Vadi Vici, plus the all-new The Medieval Longsword) are bringing in enough royalties that we can actually get by for a few months without any teaching gigs. I cannot tell you what a relief that is. It’s incredible, to be able to take some real time off and not go bankrupt. And that’s down to every one of you that has bought one of my books in any format over the last year. Thank you. You may just have saved my life. And you have certainly allowed me to convert what would have been an impossibly hard problem into a glorious opportunity.

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!

 

I could get used to this. Sat outside in the shade tap-tapping away, (still at a lugubrious 10wpm or so) in glorious 30 degree weather. Not sure I'd get much work done in the long run though. But Sydney is a lovely city. I spent Thursday and Friday being shown the sights, including the most excellent Aquarium, including the totally lethal iddy-biddy blue-ringed octopus and the astonishing dugong, proof that 60kg of lettuce a day will make you fat.
The weekend seminar went very well, I thought (and confirmed by the student feedback, according to Paul). On the Saturday we cantered through a basic overview of Fiore's glorious system, its core mechanics and its tactical base, starting with the idea that your actions are predicated on those of your opponent. We started with the first play of the dagger (Mastering the Art of Arms vol 1: The Medieval Dagger, p 52; as many of the students present now have the book I'll include page references where applicable), and varied the drill by who moves first (p 50). We then looked at being lead into the specific play by the attacker's response to the defence, using the fourth master variations (Chapter 11, pp 87-94). This set up the core idea of the seminar in a concrete, visceral way.
So onto swords, with basic cutting exercises followed by distinguishing between cut and thrust, in the context of the defences of the dagger against the sword (pp 139-147). We then applied the same basic idea using the plays of the sword in one hand, specifically the first, second and eighth. And all that before lunch!
After lunch we covered the key plays of the sword in two hands, specifically the second and third of the second master of the zogho largo, then the second and third of the zogho stretto, using the four crossings drill as a magnifying glass for examining the blade relationship that will lead you into one play or another. You can find videos of all these drills on the wiki, of course.
I continue to be baffled, given that it has been three years now since I figured this out and made it public, why anyone would continue to view Il Fior di Battaglia as a catalogue of techniques organised inconsistently by measure, rather than the detailed development of a single basic idea (hit his sword away) based on what actually happens when you apply it to an opponent with ideas of his own. One of the great pleasures of this trip has been the way that the Australians have been so receptive to new ideas, and gladly abandoned old ways of thought when presented with something better.
I'll carry on with my adventures down under in a couple of days: right now I have to get my spine ready for a 30 hour trip home. It may take longer as I am changing planes in Heathrow, and they had three whole snowflakes at the same time, so all is plunged into Chaos. Hey-ho to the frozen North!

I have been in Australia for a week now, and enjoying the sunshine (why do I live in such a freezing cold country?), the warmth of which has been eclipsed by the generous hospitality of my hosts. In Melbourne Scott Nimmo and his wife and kids welcomed me into their home with enthusiasm, and here in Sydney I am staying with my old friend Paul Wagner and his wife Julie. It has been wonderful to make new friendships and refresh old ones. But to business:
I am here to teach a series of seminars, the first of which happened last weekend in Melbourne. I had been asked to teach a day of biomechanics followed by a day of syllabus construction. I wish every group would ask for a day of mechanics first! It makes everything else so much easier. The whole weekend was filmed for future reference.

Day One
We started by establishing my expectations (everyone finishes training healthier than they started it; if you have a question, ask; no macho bullshit) and introducing the idea of mechanics: grounding, power generation, efficiency, and going through a basic warm-up focussing on the point and purpose of each exercise. The usual 12 minute series took nearly an hour, and laid the groundwork for the rest of the day: take something you think you know and make it better.
We then walked through beginner's course mechanics: finding where your weight should be on your feet, tongue position, tailbone alignment etc. all tested with gentle pressure to allow for systematic correction.
From there we looked at footwork, and how the system is a means of taking natural actions and ordering them so they can be studied, refined and taught. This included the stick exercise and the four guards drill (or the first few steps thereof).
We then looked at holding the sword- I love that moment when a keen and intelligent scholar of the Art lights up with the realisation of two things simultaneously: I've been holding my sword wrong for years; and now I know how to fix it.
The rest of the day was spent analysing the tactics, source and mechanics of the first two steps of first drill. During that time I also went round and did some very slow and careful exercises with each student sharp on sharp, at the end of which they understood at a visceral level why I say “if you haven't done it with sharps, you haven't done it at all.”
The delight for me came from the avid, gleeful way that this group of students, many of them instructors in their own groups, absorbed and adopted what I had come to teach.

Day Two
This class was all about the syllabus, why it is structured as it is, and how to use it and the tools I have created (the wiki and my books). Only two of the students present had not been there the previous day, and both were quite experienced, so I pressed on without much revision. After the warm-up (which is never just a warm-up) we began with the four guards drill and the first six plays of abrazare, in order and by the book: a lesson if ever there was one in how changing circumstances change your response. His other leg is forward? Then the lines of strength change and so does your exploitation of them.
From there we regrettably skipped the dagger, as no-one had them, and went into part one of the cutting drill, building on the previous day's work. It was necessary to teach from first principles the point and purpose of such solo work.
We then covered the four basic syllabus drills, creating each from first drill using the four-corners multiplier. I then taught the four crossings drill and we used that to create the 3rd play of the 2nd Master of the zogho largo, as another variation on first drill, and thence of course to the stretto form of first drill. We continually returned to part one of the cutting drill to create the memory palace in which to store the material.
With an hour to go I asked them what they wanted, and a few specific questions aside, they wanted more mechanics! That's my kind of group, really: depth beats breadth every time.
A flattering number of the students are making the trip to Sydney- I look forward to seeing them all again tomorrow. The plan is to present an overview of the main mechanics and tactics of Fiore's Art. No doubt I'll let you all know how it went next week.

I have just come back from a very enjoyable and productive trip to Seattle, perhaps my favourite American city. The trip was organised around a weekend seminar for Lonin, and included some consulting work for the CLANG computer game.

I arrived at midday on Thursday, working on a 10 hour time difference. I was met at the airport by Eric and his two adorable little boys, age 2 and 4. Having duly inspected various lego contraptions and pronounced them without parallel, we went to lunch, where I got to not be in charge of the kids. So, all the fun of major kid chaos, and none of the responsibility. Lunch done, Eric dropped me at Neal’s, where my room was filled with cardboard boxes: a case of my new dagger book, a year’s supply of cigars from bestcigarprices.com, and a gigantic bit of Pilates kit for my wife.  I arrived in plenty of time for Neal’s book club meeting. The kitchen gradually filled with startlingly clever chaps, all bringing food and wine. This the kind of book club where, if you haven’t read the book, it really doesn’t matter- the book is just a starting point for conversation, liberally lubricated by the noble grape. My kind of book club, in other words. After a couple of hours of thoroughly civilized conversation and a glass or two, I crashed early, and was duly woken by the time difference at about 5am. This was all to the good as it meant I was up in time for Lonin’s early-bird Friday practice at their salle in SANCA. In this case, only Neal and Eric showed- I’m guessing the other students were saving themselves for the weekend. So Neal and Eric got some one-on-one, then we returned to Neal’s and I spent the morning catching up with emails and updating this blog, then lunch, a nap, and off into town to run some errands; notably finding a birthday present for my wife, posting off the dedicatee’s copy of my dagger book, and posting off the rondel daggers I made for Bob Charrette. I met Neal and his lovely wife Ellen for dinner at Sitka and Spruce, and thence off for a pint at the Pine Box, then reasonably early to bed.

Work began in earnest on Saturday morning. We loaded up the car with swords and were there at the community centre gym by 0930. Class started at 10 (while there were a few folk trickling in- I’ve never seen the slightest need to wait for late people- why should those who arrive on time be inconvenienced by those that don’t?), with a salute and a warm-up, then the four guards drill. The class was made up of mostly Lonin students, with four brave souls down from Canada; twenty in all. It was pretty obvious that though the Lonin students had seen the drill before, nobody knew it. This is normal, as until it is taught from first principles, most people who are using my syllabus but not under my direct instruction don’t understand the role of the solo drills. But 10 seconds of watching them work on it let me know pretty much exactly what we would be covering over the weekend. I spent much of the first morning on the first play of the first master of dagger, starting out in a set, formal, basic version, and building complexity into the drills gradually and systematically. We then moved on to the longsword cutting drill, and the longsword first drill. After lunch (an incredible feast organised by the redoubtable Eric) we went back to work on the cutting drill and the basic pair drills, first setting them up, then applying variations- especially looking at starting from way out of measure and moving smoothly forward without creating an exploitable tempo.

Class was followed by an informal dinner get-together at Eric’s (for which many thanks, especially to his delightful wife Michelle and the two rambunctious little pirates for giving there home over to a horde of smelly swordsmen), and quite early to bed (again!).

Sunday’s class began with the warm-up and a review of the dagger and longsword material from Saturday’s session, punctuated by a minute’s silence at 11am, to mark Veteran’s day (Remembrance Day in the UK). When a debt cannot possibly be repaid, all we can do is acknowledge it. I realised afterwards that two of the students present were veterans themselves, as they both expressed appreciation for the gesture. The rest of the morning was spent working on freeplay-type drills, as diagnostic tools and feedback mechanisms. By the end of it, everyone present could use freeplay to assess a weakness, find drills from the syllabus to address the problem, and return to freeplay to asses whether the fix had taken.

This lead us to lunch, after which it seemed that everyone (except me of course!) was knackered. Ideal circumstances for slipping in some serious mechanics training- finding and strengthening groundpaths, and finding more efficient ways to move. This included such stalwart favourites as the stability drill. What with questions, answers and revision, that took us nearly to the end of the allotted time- but I managed to squeeze in a few examples of reverse engineering any Fiore play from the syllabus- a student would pick a play at random, and I showed how to create it by discrete, syllabus-lead adjustments to first drill.

All in all, the seminar went extremely well, and I think everyone present got the training they were ready for.

That evening a few of the students, and the redoubtable Ellis Amdur (a terrifyingly good martial artist) and his super-glamorous wife Mageli Messac joined us for pre-dinner oysters, geoduck sashimi, and wine at Taylor Shellfish, before an absolutely first-class dinner at Terra Plata. I was pretty shattered by this stage, but had a marvellous evening nonetheless.

Monday morning had a blessedly slow start, before meeting the CLANG crew at 1030  to help them with their user interface for the game. Basically they wanted to spreadsheet the optimum guard relationships, and what could be done from each guard, and in which guard various blows ended up, and other Fiorean details. It was a very useful exercise for me, to have to think about Fiore in spreadsheet terms. We finished up for the day about 1530, giving me enough time to rest up before teaching the evening class at Lonin, where we covered part two of the cutting drill in some detail before sloping off to the pub.

Tuesday started with a two-hour private lesson for Eric, then back with CLANG for a few hours to finish off, not least going over the crossings of the sword. Class that evening was run by Neal (doing Victorian stick exercises and indian clubs, lots of fun) and Nathan Barnett (an old friend I had not seen for about 8 years, who now runs a fabulous little B+B) who ran a basic cutlass class. It was delightful to be just following orders, not having to think about what was coming next. Off to the pub again (of course!) then home at a reasonable hour.

Wednesday was basically free, so I met up with Ellis for a spot of duck in a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant that rivalled the ones I’ve eaten in in Singapore, and some martial arts chat, and then off to see Neal at Delve Kitchen, a simply incredible operation that is at the forefront of modernist cuisine. They were testing blenders- by blending golf balls. Yes, really. I don't think I've ever seen so many astonishingly intelligent young men in one place before, having so much fun wrecking stuff. It was a blast!

A little last-minute shopping, and home to pack. Not a small operation, given those blasted boxes. Some down-time and then my last class for Lonin, where we went over the dagger disarm flowdrill (see p125 of the book) and part two of the cutting drill again, this time as a circular drill. Lots of fun. Then, you guessed it, off to the pub, but a different one this time, more of a beer-gourmet-bar. Heavenly IPA to ensure a restful slumber.

Thursday morning we just had time for a one hour private lesson for Neal, and then off the the airport and home on Friday morning.

In every respect, personal, professional, culinary and cultural, an excellent trip. Thanks are due to all the students who made my classes such a pleasure to teach, to Eric for organising the whole thing, and to Neal for putting up with my turning his home into a post-office.

I spent the weekend 13-14 October in El Escorial, Spain, attending the Asociación Española de Esgrima Antigua annual meeting, as an invited instructor. It was a welcome opportunity to catch up with  their chief instructor, an old friend (and a fellow full-time professional colleague), Alberto Bomprezzi, and to see how things are done in Spain.

La primera cosa que quiero decir es que fue un placer e un honor estar invitado a este evento; y quiero agradecer a todos los instructores y estudiantes por darme la bienvenida a mi, y su paciencia con mi español. Me alegría mucho encontrarme a tantos nuevos hermanos y hermanas del espada. ¡Gracias a todos! Y he aprendido una nueva palabra importantísima: ¡Porrón!

The event was well run, and organised in a way I haven’t come across before. Each day began with an hour of free fencing, in which everyone who wants to take part, finds a partner and fences fro three minutes. A whistle is blown, and you change partners. After three such rounds there is a five-minute break. After an hour, there has been a lot of very happy chaos, and everyone is nicely warmed up. I spent the time watching the students fencing, which told me (in the first five minutes) what to cover in my classes.

Alberto is very upfront about what he is doing- he teaches fencing, with historical weapons, taking his theory from Spanish rapier sources (Pacheco y Narvaez, and Carranza, if I recall correctly). This is very different to my own approach which is very much by the book.  Indeed, one of the reasons Alberto invited me was so that his students could experience a different way of doing things.

In my first class I covered entering into measure and attacking from wide measure, and what to do when you get very close. This is because almost every action I saw in the longsword freeplay was done after the fencers came close enough to cross swords, then played from there. So they know how to bind and wind, but mostly they didn’t know how to attack with vigour without exposing their hands. So we took one parry and riposte (from first drill, so second play second master of the zogho largo), and worked in a tempo before the attack, and before the parry. We then took the pommel strike from the 8th play of the sword on horseback, and played with that as the attacker’s back-up if the strike fails. It was a very interesting class, clearly somewhat outside the students’ experience- and also outside mine as I taught the whole thing in Spanish, for the first time ever. I learned Spanish growing up in Peru during the school holidays from ’87 to ’92, which makes it 20 years since I last spoke the language regularly. But with plenty of goodwill from the students, we got by.

There were only two class slots per day, with four classes running in each slot. In the afternoon I watched Chris Chatfield teach pugilism based on Saviolo, and Alberto teaching rapier and dagger. I also got to talk to Rob Runacres, who had asked his colleagues to suggest whatever tips they may have for his improvement. So I took him aside and taught him the basics of establishing a groundpath from the sword to the feet. (I’ll cover this in a blog post next month.) It was a pleasure to teach him, as he was very open to correction, and willing to learn.

The second day began predictably late, but with so much free time built into the schedule it didn’t matter. When in Spain, chill out! I had originally been asked to teach one longsword and one rapier class, but Alberto asked me to teach a second longsword class instead, so I did. This one focussed on one basic drill (first drill again), and looked at how the blows create the guards, what the guards are for, the difference between zogho largo and zogho stretto, and making your actions work despite your opponent’s best efforts to stop it.

In the afternoon, after another short lesson in the mighty porrón, I got to spend about half an hour in Manel Avrillon’s knife class. I adore martial arts of just about any type, and after an unrelieved diet of European food, the occasional Indonesian curry or Japanese sushi is very welcome. But I spotted Chris Chatfield waiting for me, and I had asked him to take me through his interpretation of the first set of plays from Vincentio Saviolo’s His Practice.

Back in 2000 at the second annual meeting of the British Federation of Historical Swordplay (which I helped to found in 1998) I saw a demonstration of this form that has stayed with me. Duncan Fatz was reading the treatise aloud, while Chris and a chap called Alistair O'Loughlin performed the actions. It was a perfect example of by-the-book historical swordsmanship. Yes, it was probably mostly wrong in terms of the specifics of execution, this was 12 years ago after all, but the approach was perfect. The spectators could see the words of the book come alive. So I was very curious to see how Chris’s interpretation had changed. And changed it has- the footwork alone is a very interesting set of mechanics that echoes both 19th-century pugilism and T’ai Chi Chuan. Chris walked me through it for about an hour, and while my left heel stubbornly refused to plant itself the way he wanted it to, the mechanics made perfect sense. I look forward to trying them again- perhaps at a weekend seminar in Helsinki next year…

Anyway, you couldn’t ask for a better host than Alberto, and his students were keen, enthusiastic, open to alternative approaches and fun to teach. All in all, a great weekend.

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