Parva Leves Capiunt Animos
You can see in these two bits of video from the Glenn Lachlan boys what I meant about me not being patient and letting Cassian come to me – you can see the points where in my head I decide that I need to force the issue because it’s getting boring. Which is very silly of me:
This was the initial 4 minute bout
and the “sudden death” because we were even on points
So. Last weekend was the Swordplay ’11 event, over three days. A quick summary of the weekend:
Friday – catching up with folk I’d not seen for a while, and having some fun play bouts – sword and targe versus sword and buckler with Tim was particularly amusing as I found it nigh impossible to either get around the targe or trick him into doing something silly. We trotted off to lunch at the Flying Nun, during which the heavens opened up and dumped a considerable amount of rain while we tried to convince Puck Curtis that it never rains at this time of year. Through the afternoon I had the distinct pleasure of an impromptu Destreza-101 from Puck, where he dumped about six months of lessons into us in a few hours. The guy is not only a really good swordsman, he’s an outstanding teacher.
Saturday was given over to a full day workshop with Puck, which he broke into two parts. Just over half the day was devoted to working through a set of 10 drills from Rada, and the rest to a flying trup through the basic principles of Destreza, built on top of the Rada drills. Chatting with Puck he mentioned that a translation of Rada is in progress and should be appearing online soon, something which I’m particularly looking forward to: not only are they a nice set of drills just for the sake of drilling, they are beautifully constructed from a didactic and pedagogical point of view. Each builds on the previous, they are self-correcting, and they each allow exploration of variations and subtelties. Touch wood I can turn them into a daily exercise next year.
Sunday was necessarily tied up with the tournament, which flowed very nicely. I’ve mentioned it elsewhere, but I was particularly struck by the high degree of courtesy and civility between all participants, by the good quality of the fencing, and came away convinced that the outcome of the tournament was an accurate reflection of the quality of the fencers and a quality of their play. The rules have been simplified and refined over the past few years, and this eliminated the ways in which the scoring system could be deliberately or inadvertently gamed.
The structure of the tournament was tinkered as well, with a “sword” tournament, a “longsword” tournament intended to encourage the Germanic schools to play, and a “mixed” or “open” tournament for the top few particpants in the other two to come together with their weapons of choice. Which pretty well resulted in a lot of longsword versus rapier and dagger, which was great fun for everyone. All in all a significant success for Scott MacDonald.
I’d entered the tournaments for the hell of it, and really didn’t care much about my personal outcomes. I had fun and learned things, and that was and is the only thing that matters to me. Having said that, I want to make some quick notes about my bouts while they are fresh in my mind, so that I can figure out how to improve.
My first longsword bout was with Cassian Humphries. Me in the longsword was a bit silly, as I’ve done very little serious longsword study, and tend to just bang around with a bit of PSSF stuff, a bit of Fiore-ish stuff, and a bit of German-ish stuff. And because we’d had the workshops on Saturday, a bit of Destreza. Cassian had done even less longsword than me, but he’s bigger than me, a lot faster, and a hell of a lot stronger. I did manage to take the bout to sudden-death using a variety of old-man-cunning tricks, but he kept cutting me across the stomach. It wasn’t until a lot later in the day that I could see what he was doing, with a techinque that he’d picked up somewhere and used repeatedly, and effectively: when he was ready to jump in and commit, he’d drop his sword down to the side a bit, do an enormously strong beat with the false edge on a rising cut, then bring it back in a screamingly fast horizontal cut across the belly. I just wish I’d spotted it earlier!
The second longsword bout was a bit of a cheat, as I played with Delia. The trouble with that is because we know each other so well, I was able to just rely on outreaching her, or outmuscling her by taking her sword high and swatting her as she released. All things I will not get away with again.
The way the tournament draw worked (there were an odd number of particpants, so the odd man out at each level fenced a randomly drawn loser from the previous round), I lucked out and went up with Cassian again. The result was fair and unambiguous: as Chris Slee said, I didn’t cover my belly and got hit across it repeatedly. My own sily damned fault. The ultimate reason for it though was interesting: each pass, I resolved to just hang out and wait for Cassian to come to me, to deal with him on my terms. And each time, after waiting a while, the PSSF instinct tickled my brain “hey, nothing’s happening, it’s boring for the audience, do something”, and in I would go, throwing something to draw out a response – which he ignored each time, did the false-edge beat, and cut me across the gut. So it goes.
My initial sword bout with Tim Harris was great fun. I think I had poor Tim at a disadvantage – we’d talked about what combination of weapons we might play with before hand, and I was encouraging him to use his targe, but he opted out of courtesy for the rules to use a borrowed buckler instead with his backsword. I’d also borrowed a sword, to fit in the weapons specification, and found it was a lovely little snakey thing that moved like lightning. Thus it felt like Tim was caught out by the buckler being smaller than he expected, and I was able to sneak shots over the top. For some reason we kept getting stuck in the corner – it could have been that’s where the shade was best!
The next sword bout was fun, but highlights my defects rather well. Bob Dodson is getting fast, and has developed good accuracy on the thrust. We had a yarn just before we went on and opted just to go for rapier alone, for the hell of it. The outcome was rather telling – any time I compromised my distance, Bob would pop in a thrust, usually to my right shoulder as I attempted one of the big open attacks we’re conditioned by PSSF to do. If I went far enough around to his right, I could get the cut or thrust over his sword into his head, but I found myself tired enough – and my right elbow was starting to really hurt again – that I couldn’t do that consistently, and he knocked me out of contention. And again, there’s no argument that the most martially correct fencing carried the day there.
Looking back over the notes above, which I’ve dribbled out through the day in gaps in my work, the word that sticks out is “fun”. I had fun in the competition bouts, and fun in the competition, which surprises me. I usually do not like or enjoy competition much, and very much prefer to play with swords in a context where I can just bash around and explore things, the sort of play where you can say “that was cool, do it again so I can figure it out”. On the other hand, I do agree with Scott MacDonald’s assertion: if you’re serious about studying these obsolete arts, you need to take it out and test drive your ideas.
The tournament component of Swordplay XX (and I really wish more people would remember that the tournament component is only a minor part of the event) is evolving into a really nice place to test yourself, and schools to test themselves. The atmosphere is collegiate and respectful, the stakes are low and abstract, and there’s no shame or loss in not coming out on top of the ladder.
Justin popped up to the top of all three bits of the tournament not because he’s fit, strong, fast, and tall. He’s taken in the sworplay ideas from his school, learned them well, and applied them with great technical competence. Next year he might do the same, or it might be someone else, and it doesn’t matter: the aim of the tournament is met, individuals and schools tested themselves, and everyone had fun doing it.
A final note though. It really saddened me that so few from PSSF came along on the Saturday, and to a lesser extent on the Friday. PSSF had a performance gig on Sunday, so it was understandable that people may not come to watch the tournament, and it is appreciable that folk may have trouble getting out of work on the Friday to take more advantage of the social fencing. But for folk to pass up the opportunity to attend a workshop with someone of Puck’s stature is inexplicable. For folk to pass up the opportunity to spend time with their peers and confreres from other states and schools is just sad. There’s nothing to lose in going out to have a bash around with other sword students, and much to gain. And the really silly thing? Once more people from other schools expressed disappointment that they couldn’t meet with and talk to PSSF students because they wanted to find out how PSSF achieves their fluidity and style.
The tongue-in-cheek motto that Scott has launched for Swordplay ’12 says it all: “If you’re not there, you’re not serious”.
Brian R. Price, ed.
ISBN 1-891448-46-3
This slim volume is very much a mixed batch. Reading it I could not quite decide if that was intentional, or the result of somewhat imprecise invitations to contribute, and I’m unlikely to ever know which it was.
Brian Price put together this collection of essays from a very wide variety of modern teachers and interpreters of historical swordplay some years ago, and it is intriguing to compare what was published here and how things are standing now, particularly as there is a growing movement toward providing a space for competition in historical sword play.
Putting aside any carping, most of the articles in here were fascinating, and there is a high degree of agreement between different teachers around the approach to Teaching and Interpreting swordplay. A handful of articles deal with specific technique, a handful use specific technique to illustrate a teacher’s approach to interpretation or teaching, and some like Stephen Hand’s look at a philosophy of teaching and interpretation.
It was this latter topic that particularly interested me (although Johann Heim’s article on versetzen introduced me to a lovely set of longsword ideas), and the topic that had broad agreement from the other authors. There is a core didactic problem with teaching from historical manuals, or from interpretations of historical manuals. If we go back 10 or 15 years, there was such a paucity of material available, and in such poor quality, that there was a fair degree of emphasis on interpreting the illustrations, not the accompanying text. Serious students quickly discovered that this was woefully inadequate, and that the text was the important thing, with the illustrations supporting the text, rather than the other way around.
That’s where things get messy. As Chris Tobler notes, these texts are not only in very foreign languages, they are littered with dense jargon and precise technical terms that are seldom explained. That makes interpretation – in both senses of the word – difficult, but there’s evidence from these articles that there is a definite trend toward collaborative and cooperative interpretation, enchanced and not detracted by differing interpretations of specific techniques.
The nice thing that is happening is that there has been a general recognition that historical manuals contain codifications of principles, exemplified by specific applications of those principles, and illustrated in part by the images. There are a variety of these general principles held up as exemplars – Silver’s times, the Lichtenauer Versetzen and the guards in Fiore/Vadi.
Balanced against these more philosophical articles are some really nice descriptions of different ways of managing the activity in the salle, different approaches to drills, and even a nice article on how to deal with different personalities and body sizes.
A few of the articles are a bit grating – Price’s own contribution spends some time talking about himself and his experiences, and Chelak’s felt somewhat vague – but overall this is a collection well worth reading.
The context of teaching and interpreting swordplay in the modern world is obviously hugely different to the historical context, and there are significant modern difficulties that need to be overcome. It is encouraging that there is patently a broad and intelligent community of teachers and interpreters considering the difficulties, and communicating a variety of very nice solutions.
It’s really not long until the Abbey Medieval Festival. Every year it always comes around too quickly, but this year feels different. I really don’t have many things left to prepare, but in a large part that’s because I’ve decided not to attempt most of what is in the back log.
Yes, ok, cryptic comments that will be made clear in coming weeks. Skip over that part.
Anyway, the list has become pretty short, and I’ll try to keep this updated with progress: