Tag: Capitale Escrime

Coaching Footwork

Coaches use a variety of types of footwork and positioning when teaching. Watch a typical Olympic lesson and you will notice quickly that the coach isn’t necessarily on guard, but more often than not standing. Rather than advancing and retreating they are walking. The reason for this is obvious, or should be, but a lot of people new to coaching do as they were taught and use the same footwork they do when fencing. That isn’t wrong, and in fact, most coaches will drop into those positions when necessary too, but they rarely stay in stance the entire time. The reason is that it’s fatiguing, especially over the course of the day.

If one is teaching a single solo-lesson, then walking steps and a more upright posture are less critical, but even there it can be helpful. If one is teaching multiple students in a day, then sparing one’s body is all the more important. Fencing is all about repetitive motion, and over time, especially over decades, some of that motion takes a toll. We can reduce wear and tear, as well as fatigue, if we take a few steps to make it easier on ourselves when we teach.

Walking Steps

I’m starting with walking as it can be the hardest to adopt, but also because most other changes follow naturally from it. Yes, walking. It was hard for me initially to walk rather than advance and retreat, not because I struggle with it physically, but because I wasn’t sure just when I should use it. For warm-ups and cool-downs walking is more natural, so start there—if you begin with wrist picks/arrests, stop-cut parry/riposte, disengage and thrust, etc., these are good times for the coach to walk versus adopt a proper guard.

In some drills one may walk as well—context is a good guide. If one is demonstrating aspects of the lunge, then it makes sense to adopt a proper guard, use appropriate footwork, and lunge as one does. This said, the coach in most other cases can substitute walking for all of this—for the lunge, we might just walk a bit faster.

Surface & Terrain

Generally, fencing is an indoor activity, and in Olympic circles almost always, but in historical fencing for a variety of reasons we are often fencing and teaching in mixed environments. If you have the good fortune to work indoors, and have proper flooring, such as wood, the springy artificial rubber stuff I don’t know the name of, or the like, then terrain is less a concern.

If you are outside, however, the coach has to take into account how terrain will affect both how they move and how the student does. I use these opportunities to expand what a student might find comfortable. Practice on gravel, sand, grass, blacktop, or concrete will test one’s mobility, balance, and endurance. Work accordingly. So, if your lesson is on a slippery surface, work on tighter footwork (cross-steps are good), and shorter lunges. If on super hard surfaces, such as concrete, make sure you include more frequent breaks, and depending on the type of fencing, limit anything that will mean more concentrated impact. When on concrete, I do not include as much footwork in the warm-up portion, for example.

Ambidexterity

Not everyone develops the ability to fence with their off-hand, but it’s something I encourage. Not only will it help you as coaching those in class who are in the minority handedness-wise, but it also provides the coach a break. When the dominant arm starts to tire, one can switch. After a time, it’s easy to forget which side one is using, and in that case changing more regularly can help balance out things.

Being able to move, to use footwork with the opposite side, also helps. The muscles etc. engage differently, and allow those on the dominant side a chance to work less strenuously. As a perk, one is far less likely to develop one side of the body overmuch.

Breaks

It may be obvious, but the coach shouldn’t be moving, let alone fencing, the entire time. Take breaks. It is not always easy to do, but they’re vital to focus and the longevity of one’s teaching career. We are not necessarily conditioned to do this; often in fencing we’re under pressure or feel that we are, and so will push on when we should not. To use myself as an example, a few years ago at a weekend coaching clinic at Halberstadt Fencing Club in San Francisco, Maitre Handelman approached me and told me “Take a break.” Both myself and the other not-young instructor had been going all day, and it was starting to tell in how we moved. We sat down, mutually lamented the horror of aging, but we did as ordered. I don’t think I could pick one thing that Matire Handelman shared as a favorite kernel of wisdom—he’s a consummate teacher and one of the best I’ve met—but this aside has stuck with me. Until recently, I was teaching every day, and had I not followed this sage advice, I’d be in worse shape than I am.

Take breaks between lessons, take them between classes. Right now, with only a three-hour block to teach on weekends, there is no gap between the three sections. So, what I do is use the footwork drills we start with to rest. In a class, and mine are mercifully small, the coach normally circulates between pairs as they work through drills, and depending on the walking surface this can be a long time to stand. When you can, sit. When you can, stretch.

Pacing

Just as we can with traditional fencing movement, we can speed up or slow down when walking. I was surprised at how much walking can affect distance, but it can, so some adjustment may be required in order to chase a student or retreat in turn if walking. This is stating the obvious, but it’s worth mentioning because if we’re not mindful about it students attacking can be in grappling range super quickly, and in attacking them it’s easy to feel like they’re sprinting away from us.

Benefits of Coaching Footwork

To explain this I’d like to point out, again, that fencing is one of those pursuits that many people pursue into their later years. This isn’t just as participation or a movement exercise–there are competitors who are elderly; coaches who teach all the time. They FENCE.

The reason they are able to do this is, no doubt, partly owing to the luck of genetics, but it’s also because most have taken care of themselves. Even if you come to this late, as I did, it will save you some hassle down the road. Having had the pleasure to learn from and compete against people decades older than I am, I know firsthand just how formidable these folks can be. The worst thrashing I ever experienced in competition was against an 80 year old man when I was 23. Al Couturier, who at the time was in his 70s, enjoyed turning on the speed during lessons as we cooled down–soon as we saw the smile in his mask and his arm take on a life of its own, we know we would be parrying like mad. It didn’t matter–he got us each time. Maitre Calvert was in his 90s when I worked with him, and would sometimes, in foil, pull off a behind the back shot as illustrated in Angelo. More recently, during my master’s exam, I had the pleasure to work with Grand Master Josef Šolc, who is 90, and can lunge a lot farther than I can and recover just as quickly. These elder fencers remind us of what is possible.

We can do it too, if we’re lucky, but that starts with taking responsibility for ourselves, setting a good example for younger fencers, and in managing our time, bouting or teaching, well.

Article on “Military” Sabre–Additional Thoughts

My friends in Canada shared an excellent article with me today, one by Paul Becker with the Historical Fencing Academy, Nordhausen, Germany [https://www.hema-academy.com/home]. Entitled “Military Fencing & Military Sabre?” Mr. Becker explores, through detailed examples from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, what constitutes “military” fencing in his view. Do please read his article–it is well-done and covers a lot of ground that too often is left untilled. Readers will find not only his coverage of texts, but his examination of period weapons useful.

The link is here: https://www.hema-academy.com/blog/militaerfechten-militrsaebel?fbclid=IwY2xjawNLfuhleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETFNWFhBeEROeVJiOVJtR2gwAR4f6JSN3yJQ-8Lx-JSo9nfDbVAMm34vfEm6-ObW6zQ2xp0spOmIVtM2ea1J4Q_aem_KNNZWoEg5WhCCc_VVMw0dw

If you’ve read much I’ve written, then you will know how much I tend to detest the separation of sabre into “dueling” and “military” in popular “HEMA.” These labels, while in some degree useful, obscure an important fact, namely that the very people using sabres for duels were normally military officers. To quote my good friend Alex Spreier, somewhat out of context, “sabre is sabre.” The problem is that we often feel we need or at least wish to differentiate what we study from related topics–sabre encompasses a vast, truly global tool, and so is perhaps especially prone to fall into categorizing nightmares.

As I’ve too often stated, in “HEMA” the use of “military sabre” is normally meant to separate out what the user is doing from the sport. There is some sense in this, though it is over-emphasized given the vast amount of common ground shared by those examining historical systems and the modern sport. It is, historically speaking, redundant in that sabre was by and large a military weapon. It’s like calling a howitzer a “military howitzer.” The use of national terms, e.g. “Italian sabre” or “Hungarian” or “Spanish sabre” makes a bit more sense, as it refers–one assumes–to texts from those cultures and often in their respective languages. How different these systems are from one another, and how much they overlap, is a separate issue.

There were, as Mr. Becker rightly points out, differences even in the period many of us study: there was sabre intended for war; sabre intended for duels; there was sabre for fun and which employed competitive rule-sets. The weapons were often different too. For reasons I’ll leave aside for now, not that I know all of them, “HEMA” has taken a fancy to the heaviest sabres it can find, sabres that are rubbish to fence with–this doesn’t mean they wouldn’t be useful when mounted or as sharp clubs, but even there for a weapon to be effective and not exhaust the user too quickly some compromise was generally found. No one should be fencing with a 1.81 kg or 4lb sabre. One can, but why?

If one takes the time to examine the sources, and we have a ton of them, for sabre between say 1850 and 1950, they will readily see just how varied the tools were. There is the example of Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner, a Czech army officer, who not only worked with the common 600-700g training sabre, but also the heavier cavalry tool (this was about 1 kg). For a second example, one might recall the scene that Leon Bertrand shares in his odd book Cut and Thrust: The Subtlety of the Sabre (1927) where an Italian master, Giuseppe Magrini, crosses blades with an unnamed English soldier, the former armed with lighter sabre, the latter with a blunted cavalry weapon. The Englishman was also armored cap-a-pie “in heavy canvas, shin guards and cage-like mask.” [1]

In terms of the abuse of adjectives, Mr. Becker specifically calls out Barbasetti Military Sabre, and as a member of that school, and moreover as one who spent the last few months doing all I could to learn its history, I feel compelled to offer an alternative view. Allow me first to say that in most respects I agree with my esteemed colleague–but, there may be context he doesn’t have for Barbasetti Military Sabre, Prague, and if that is so then perhaps I can fill in that missing piece for him.

Barbasetti, the Military, and Fencing in Czechia

Barbasetti visited Prague in 1895. While there was sabre in the Czech Lands, it didn’t appear on the map until after the master’s visit. The influence of Barbasetti on the Austro-Hungarian army was profound. Prior to the establishment of the independent Czech state in 1918, Czech officers serving the Empire were trained, like their colleagues, in Barbasetti’s method alongside their comrades in Austria. Some, like František Dvořák and Robert Tvarúžek, attended the school at the Theresianische Militärakademie Wiener Neustadt and became masters themselves. Important to note, it was K.u.k. Fencing Master Robert Tvarúžek who wrote Šerm Šavlí, the first sabre text in Czech. Tvarúžek presented Barbasetti’s method only in the Czech language. [2]

Moreover, when the Czech army set up its own program for sword instruction, they also chose Barbasetti. From 1918, through the 1920s and 1930s, Barbasetti‘s formed the fencing curriculum in the Czech Republic. One well-known master at Vyšší vojenská reálka v Hranicích (the Military Academy, Hranice) was staff captain Karel Sekanina. He was posted to Hranice in January of 1920, and is important to the current program in Prague because he was the master who taught Master Leonid Křížek’s teacher, Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner (d. 1984). Sekanina worked with Wagner three times a week from 1923 to 1925. [3]

For Barbasetti Military Sabre itself, as a club, the use of “military” distinguishes the school’s approach from that of its colleagues in Prague. There is a close association, for example, between Barbasetti Military Sabre and Český šermířský klub Riegel–their histories are intertwined. Even today, many of the masters who teach at BMS also teach or have taught and/or fence at ČSK Riegel, including Maestro Josef Šolc and his son Maestro Michael Šolc. [4]

In addition, the terms “Barbasetti Military Sabre” also speak directly to the school’s lineage. Maestro Leonid Křížek, a key instructor and scholar with the school, was taught by Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner, in the 1960s–the method that Wagner learned, and importantly taught thereafter, was Barbasetti’s system. Maestro Křížek taught Master Michael Kňažko, and both have been important mentors to me.

The use of the term “military” is not one anybody at BMS takes at face value or wishes to project under false notions. None of us are active duty military, so some titles that we might apply would be borrowed glory and in bad form to assume. For example, the K.u.k. Armee Fechtturnier, was for military personnel. To call the event that our club puts on the “Imperial Army Fencing Tournament” is too specific–we are, again, not in the army, nor are we members of a now defunct empire. However, “military” is appropriate because the modern event celebrates these important tournaments, and, uses the same weapons and format. “Military,” here, is an appropriate and descriptive adjective. To call it K.u.k. Militär Fecht-Turnier is descriptive and avoids any confusion were we to use Armee.

SO, What do We Call Sabre?

That’s up to you. For me, I prefer “Historical Fencing” and “Historical Sabre” as it’s general enough to cover most things and yet specific enough so that students don’t show up expecting me to make them Olympic champions. I’m not the guy for that. Interested parties will ask “what kind of historical sabre?” and then I can explain the specifics of what I research and teach. My club name here, one chosen by students, is “Capitale Escrime” because most live in the state capital, Salem, OR, and we fence. We put it in French because, well, it sounds better, but also because the vast majority of students study French smallsword. My sabre students, when they meet again, will do so as a North American satellite of Barbasetti Military Sabre headquartered in Prague.

NOTES:

[1] Leon Bertrand, Cut and Thrust: The Subtlety of the Sabre, London, UK: Athletic House Publications, 1927, 74-76.

[2] K.u.k. is an abbreviation of German Kaiserlich und königlich, or, “Imperial and Royal.” See for example https://www.visitingvienna.com/culture/k-k/

[3] For a full history of Barbasetti’s impact in Czechia, see https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/barbasetti-military-sabre-since-1895-2/

[4] See https://www.riegel1902.cz/index.html

Anatomy (of a) Lesson

A major benefit of study and review is the pleasure of reacquainting oneself with ideas and practices that one knows, maybe even relies on all the time, but which one less often articulates or thinks of the way a text might explain them. I should rather have titled this post anatomies of the lesson as in fencing there are actually a variety of lesson types. This is a topic I’ve covered in various ways before, but it’s one worth revisiting and/or tackling from different angles.

In my case, accidents of the environment in which I teach have led me to extend the duration of the usual lesson, and when I’m prepping for a more typical length of time, I’m sometimes painfully reminded of this fact. Living in a relatively rural area, a lot of my students drive in from the city or other areas, often 45 minutes to an hour away, and given the time, expense, and hassle of travel (highways here can be pretty jammed), the usual 15-20 minute, maybe 30 one often gets from a coach at a salle seems disproportionately short for the effort. I normally teach in hour blocks, but this means stretching out the 15-20 minute lesson rather than cramming the hour full of material. It means more time for drill, to explore specific actions and ideas, and, time to discuss what we’re doing.

An hour lesson is not normal, least, not in most settings. Every master with whom I’ve studied expected (if they did not outright demand) silence during the lesson. If they asked a question, one responded, otherwise one remained quiet and focused. The single greatest reason for this was time—they have a lot of students to work with and little time for lengthy discussions. Some of them, happily, are happy to talk about things or answer questions out of a lesson. Before this sounds extremely old-fashioned and doctrinaire, it might help to remember that most masters or their provosts giving lessons are giving multiple, even many lessons, and often within a short window of time. Even at those salles that are open all day, a coach may teach dozens of lessons, at all levels, and they need breaks.

In addition to time and numbers, another reason that lessons tend to be short is retention of material—people can only take in so much information. Fencing is as mental as it is physical, it’s a complex of thought, action, and expression in space, which can vary in tempo, speed, and distance. It’s a lot. To add too much to a lesson is to make the lesson worthless. Thus, one reason for different types of lessons.

Types of Lesson

Warm up:        these are often mechanical, and maybe most often used before competition. It’s a way of warming up the fencer. Simple attacks, parry-riposte, counterattacks, maybe even actions they tend to favor might be the topic.

Teaching:        this type introduces new actions or ideas, or, helps the fencer perfect something that needs work.

Options:          in this version, one uses actions the fencer knows, but in different situations. The coach may initiate action, but the student might too. Sometimes both will depending on the topic. There are many things one can vary to explore the material—one can vary timing, distance, speed, type of footwork, initial action, final reactions, etc.

Bouting:          these lessons tend to be used more with intermediate to advanced students, though there are ways to modify them for the less experienced depending on what it is one is covering. [1] Often, the coach will make some action a few times, and give the student opportunities to respond appropriately. There are a variety of ways to do this:

  • Blocked Exercises (what I refer to as “Coach as Pell”)
    • Blocked Exercises with a Simple Reaction
    • Choice Repetition (more like an Options Lesson)
    • Surprise or Switching Actions
    • Foreseen vs. Unforeseen
    • Coach or Student Initiated

What type of lesson we employ depends on the student’s level of training, the weapon they are studying, and something often left out of the mix, that student’s natural inclinations and strengths.

The demands on the coach are, to be honest, significant. This is one reason that there are traditionally three coaching levels. A moniteur d’escrime, for example, often teaches fundamentals of technique and footwork. In the US, much of the training for a moniteur centers around coaches who teach at small community clubs or school programs—most often these are coaches introducing students to fencing and giving them a solid grounding in technique and tactics. A Prévôt or Provost, is similar to a master, but is a coach who focuses mostly on training fencers rather than coaches. A Maitre d’armes or Maestro di Scherma in Italian, is normally a coach with long experience and able to teach not only fencers of all levels, but importantly, coaches as well. What they do will depend largely on the size and purpose of their program and where they teach.

Not all levels of coach will teach all types of lessons. It tends to be compartmentalized. Why people fence, and the degree to which they dive in, determines a lot about their coaching. For me, I have some dedicated students who want to learn all they can, but I also have some for whom fencing is just one of many hobbies. Some work with me for years, others for a few weeks. [2] I do my best to help each meet their goals, whatever they are, and I’m also lucky to work within a network of other coaches who can further the study of my own students. Locally, there are several historical clubs as well as Olympic clubs, to which I sometimes direct students. [3] I also work with two international organizations: I represent and teach the curriculum of my home salle, Barbasetti Military Sabre (since 1895), based in Prague, Czechia, and I have the honor to work with three masters, two in Canada, one in the US, who head Storica Defensa. [4]

What Lesson When?

I teach in two formats—classes and individual lessons. Both are challenging and while there is overlap, the differences shape each one. For individual lessons, which not all my students take, the first might be an assessment lesson or a teaching lesson. The former we use to gauge the level of a person with previous experience. It varies—some fenced ten or twenty years ago, but remember a lot; some are active competitors now. What we end up covering moving forward is largely built on the conclusions reached in that initial lesson. In the latter, a teaching lesson, it either starts from scratch or from the next logical step in an experienced fencer’s progress. It takes considerable training and experience to assess any of this with accuracy.

Once a fencer has command of the fundamentals, so once they can move comfortably, have decent blade handling, and a good grasp of the basic tactics to date, we start to explore new and more advanced material. These lessons might be teaching or option lessons; sometimes it’s a mix of both. It is not often I give warm up lessons, but I do when assisting fencers at events. Bouting Lessons, on the other hand, I use quite frequently with my advanced students. Over time, it should look and feel like a bout might in the salle or in competition. This lesson style in particular requires an ability to calibrate not only what one throws at a student or responds to, but how, in what tempo, speed, at what distance, and with a thought for any follow-up action if applicable.

Adapting Formats

How does one take one of these lesson types and expand it for an hour? Well, first, if you don’t have to do that, don’t. It’s better to stick to shorter lessons if at all possible. However, if like me, it’s the fairest option for a long-distance student, then pacing is everything. I literally stretch out the normal format.

In the first ten minutes or so, we warm up—this includes stretching, footwork, and some basic actions such as parry-riposte, simple attacks, disengagements, maybe stop-cuts or thrusts.

Next, we spend 15-20 minutes on the topic of the lesson. It can be tempting to try to cover a lot in an hour, but don’t—keep it simple. Find an action, technique, and/or tactic to focus on and a few permutations following from that basic topic. For example, maybe the topic is attacks by coulé or filo, by graze. Depending on the student, I might demonstrate it first, then have them do it. That might be all we do. If they have covered it before, we add to it. First, we switch roles—if I have them attack using it first, I then have them defend themselves against it. Second, and again, dependent on level, we build from there, maybe add a feint after the initial graze, then a disengagement. We then reverse roles again—a student needs to know how to defend as well as use an attack, and in covering both their understanding deepens.

For my advanced students, the next portion of a lesson usually follows whatever we explore in a teaching or options format; the purpose of it is to allow them a chance to work on and perfect what we covered in real time and depending on level, in as real a fashion as possible. [5] Using the previous example, we would bout and explore using the graze in real time. Initially, especially with someone new to it, I set them up to make it—this may be very obvious, but it helps train them to see what it is they are looking for, and, when to use it. Next I might make it a bit more difficult, or, vary the set up. I may remove the set up, in which case they might try to create an opportunity to use the action, or, decide on a different approach. My job is to help them learn how to do that. In this style of lesson, the coach must act not only as a teacher, but a fencer capable of presenting any potential skill level the fencer may face.

We end with a cool down, normally for sabre either stop-cut/parry-riposte or arrests, or, parry-riposte.

There is ample opportunity for students to ask questions, to explain aspects of what we’re covering, and make corrections. It is vital to make it safe for students so that they’re comfortable asking questions—with an hour, we have time. In a class or shorter lesson I will announce that I’m happy to chat in more detail once we’re through with things. Explanations must be clear, germane to the topic, and constructive. Corrections, the topic for another time, should be given compassionately, without emotion, and focus on the issue. It is never okay to disparage or strike a student, practices not uncommon when I was coming up. It’s unnecessary and unhelpful—our job as coach is to build them up, not tear them down.

In historical fencing, many more experienced students may dabble in other weapons, though this is as true in the sport. [6] When this is the case, and if the coach actually knows the other weapon, comparisons across them can be helpful in explanation, even correction. Some of my smallsword students study rapier too, and so when applicable we may cover how something is handled in each case. Ditto sabre and broadsword, Radaellian or contre-pointe. The caveat here is the coach truly having the familiarity and depth within different weapons to make those comparisons constructively. “HEMA” is full of people who think they know more than they do, and so students must be particularly wary. It goes beyond the purpose of this post, but I have met a lot of students coming from schools where the coach acted as if, maybe even believed they knew a subject, but clearly did not. One advantage to being source-based is fact-checking is relatively easy, assuming one reads, and, reads widely. This is all the more true when one knows credible coaches that teach weapons one does not. When I have students interested in longsword, I send them to the coaches I know that are worth their time—I’ve dabbled in longsword, and could teach the very basics, but beyond that it would be irresponsible. It is far easier to send them to my colleagues, and, better for them.

Use What Works

Not all students need all lesson types. That’s okay. It’s best to find out what they want, then tailor things to help them get what they seek. One of the tasks I’ve enjoyed most the last few years is helping other instructors learn how to use these lesson formats. As a student myself, it helps me too, because like any coach I can always improve and will always need practice. If I’m lucky, and live to be the same age as some of the masters under whom I studied, maybe I’ll provide lessons as fluidly and expertly as they did. For now, each lesson is study for me as well as the student, and that seems fitting to me.

NOTES:

[1] With newer students, a “bouting lesson” may consist only of repeating the same simple action, both as attacker and responding as defender, but in real time as appropriate. Every drill, to the degree possible and in alignment with that student’s skill level, should emulate the conditions of an actual bout best it can.

[2] Turn-over in fencing can be high, especially if one teaches children, and this is normal. Not everyone ends up loving it, and that’s okay. We do our best to represent the Art and make it fun, and hopefully, to project the values that accompany its study. We do not all agree about those values, but if the Art teaches us anything, it is that it belongs to all.

[3] I teach historical fencing, but have students that either wish to study Olympic or already do. So long as their coaches are good, great—do both! It will only make them better fencers. This said, for beginners it’s best to stick to one track, get it down well enough, and then study the other. Far less confusing and better chances of success.

[4] For Barbasetti Military Sabre (Since 1895), see https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/barbasetti-military-sabre-since-1895-2/ ; for Storica Defensa, the facebook page is the best source of information at this time.

[5] Outside of some very basic mechanical drills, I am not a fan of any drill too divorced from the requirements of an actual bout. Drills, ideally, however simple or complicated, should be snapshots of the actions and exchanges fencers actually make.

[6] It has always varied really, but there are many “three-weapon fencers” in the Olympic sphere. There are also some specialists. Changes in competition over the last thirty years have trended towards specialization, but it is not the rule.

Ft. Ligonier French Fencing Weekend

I’ve been meaning to write something up since I returned late Tuesday, but between work and an unexpected veterinarian adventure, I’ve not had time to do this event justice. It was, in a word, amazing, and so much so that I truly hope it becomes a regular event. Patrick Bratton and team put on one hell of a seminar–it was not just the classes, though those were great, but that the setting was apropos and unique, we had behind-the-scenes access to some of the museum, and ample chances to eat, laugh, and get to know one another. Yes, we also fenced, or many did–it was all I could do not to break my doctor’s orders and jump in, but for once I was a grown-up about it (and appropriately as bitter as a toddler told “no”).

By most definitions, I don’t think people would consider me particularly “lucky,” but when it comes to finding myself at truly impressive, informative, and fun events, I’m as rich as Croesus. To the list of favorites–SabreSlash, The St. George’s Day Exhibition of Arms, Rose and Thorns Historical Fencing Symposium–I can now add a fourth, Patrick’s French Fencing weekend. One reason, beyond the obvious draw of all things hoplological or fencing-related, is that it combined three branches of the community: historical, Olympic, and reenactment. The benefits of such cross-over should be obvious, but may not be, so to illustrate this I cite the example of a fascinating chap, Matthew Schlicksup, an artisan of historical footwear currently working at Ft. Ticonderoga in New York.

Historical Artisans

Matthew makes historical footwear, among other period items, and is a master craftsman. Trained in Williamsburg, Virginia, he has made shoes, attended events, and conducted research that most of us might not think about, and, despite the fact we all wear shoes. We take them for granted. Ft. Ligonier, however, has the world’s largest collection of period shoes thanks to the accident of 18th century castoffs and the powers of anaerobic preservation. An archaeologist in initial training, Matthew brings science to his craft, and with impressive results.

This weekend he shared, and wore, his version of the fencing shoes or sandals depicted in de la Touche’s seminal treatise, Le vrays principes de l’espée seule (1670). So, here we are at an historical fencing seminar with a man who makes shoes from the period for that very purpose. This may not seem important, but it is. A few years ago I spent considerable time researching the development of the lunge and this included a look at footwear–would that I had known Matthew then! In discussion with him about de la Touche’s sandal, I learned so much more than I might have, not only about construction, but also about how such shoes function. Put simply, this was a window into period fencing via a single often unconsidered artifact.

Museum

Our host at Ft. Ligonier, Matthew Tristan, was accommodating, supportive, and generous with his time. It was he who gave us the behind-the-scenes tour. It says a lot that he and the foundation were open to having us there: a busy historical site and nuts with swords sounds like an insurance adjustor’s nightmare. With Patrick and others in period dress, and quick to chat with visitors, it went well and we hope added something to the experience. When trusted with the safety of the site and its guests, one wants to do all one can to make it go well, and under Patrick’s excellent leadership this was not even in question. With all the discussion of clubs losing insurance because of unsafe and/or stupid activities, with some unfortunate high-profile legal cases, a win like this is easy to dismiss. We shouldn’t–this was a success and a sign that things can be done correctly.

Classes

In terms of classes, I participated as much as I was able–stupid injury maintenance–but was super keen to see what Justin Aucoin did with the work of Charles Besnard, one of my favorite masters. Justin has long experience with fencing and the SCA, and runs a seriously fantastic class. People loved his classes. I loved his classes. He taught one on Besnard and a second on the bâton à deux bouts or French double-spear in Pascha. I had been looking forward to meeting Justin for some time–Patrick spoke highly of him, I liked what I saw in his videos, and he is a die-hard fan of Dumas and The Three Musketeers, that last fact which immediately endeared him to me.

Justin combines deep knowledge with obvious skill and a passion for his topic. It’s infectuous. Moreover, he works with a diverse student population–always a good sign–and so was quick to suggest work-arounds and ideas to make each thing he covered work for different folks. If he is teaching anything near you or you have the chance to travel to work with him, do.

Bridge-Building

I tend to gravitate towards and work with other folks interested in bridge-building. It’s not just the strengths that collaborative work brings, but the sort of people that go in for it. Among these, I have worked most often outside my immediate surroundings with Patrick. He is, quite honestly, a model coach and advocate for what we do. As a trained teacher (he’s a professor at a college in Pennsylvania), researcher, fencer, and man of eclectic and fascinating interests, from vintage fashion to hunting lore, Patrick perhaps more easily combines disparate strings together to make a viable tapestry.

The historical reenactment group he is involved in, a detachment of mid-18th century French marines, has worked at Ft. Lignonier, among others, before, and it was an ideal location for a look at several late 17th century fencing masters. Some students were in costume, some not, but the addition of period appearance added a lot. Having good relations with the museum staff meant not only a chance to hold the seminar on site, but also see parts of the museum most people do not see. The historian and former archaeologist in me was seriously thrilled about that, but I wasn’t alone.

The only other event that I have attended that combined all these elements so successfully was my mentor Master Michael Knazko and company’s SabreSlash–we had fencers from all walks, reenactors from Krakow (17th Polish hussars), and tours of various sites within Prague relating to fencing (among other historical subjects). In both cases the camaraderie was the finest.

A Model for Future Events

Until recently, until this latest trip actually, I had planned some invitational tournaments. Now, while there may be a tournament element, I am planning to put together something closer to what Patrick and Maestro Knazko have done. It’s a good mix–class for those who like it, some history and other activities (we ate well for example), and some fencing or lessons. It is my hope that Patrick makes this event a regular one–we’ll be lucky if he does.