Frequently Asked Questions
(and a statement of philosophy)

Ken Mondschein
this document is periodically updated

 

 

 

Contents

What is fencing?
What is a martial art?
What is classical fencing?
What are the history of the foil, épée, and sabre?
What is historical fencing?
What distinguishes classical fencing from modern sport fencing?
What is SCA fencing, and how does it differ from what you do?
How does classical teaching differ from modern coaching?
How does classical fencing help with historical fencing?
Who have you studied with?
How do classical and historical fencing differ from what you might see in the movies or on stage?
Do you teach stage combat?
Do you teach teach the modern sport of fencing?
Do you compete?
So why are you certified by a modern coaching organization when you teach classical and historical fencing
?
Do you need to by physically fit to do classical or historical fencing?
Why do I need a teacher when I can study the "manuals" myself?
Why bother?


What is fencing?

The skill of using hand-held weapons, especially the sword, for self-defense, for sport, or as a martial art.

Today, the term is usually used to refer to an Olympic sport governed by the Fédération Internationale d'Escrime (FIE) and the various national governing bodies (USA Fencing, in the United States) that consists of three events—the foil (a light thrusting weapon), the épée (a heavier thrusting weapon) and the sabre (a light cutting and thrusting weapon). It makes use of an electronic scoring apparatus and conventional rules. This is a fast, athletic, and often enjoyable game, but has changed radically in the past century or so. However, other variants of fencing exist, such as historial and classical fencing.

All variants of fencing may be considered martial arts.

 

What is a martial art?

A martial art is a practice that takes the asocial force of violence and enfolds it into the web of culture.

Violence is a human universal. So are hunger and the mating urge. The function of human culture is to mediate these realities and make civilized life possible. Rather than eating our food raw, we have cuisine and table manners. Rather than dragging our mates off to our caves by their hair, we have courtship and marriage rituals. Rather than "all out" fighting with tooth and nail, we practice martial arts. The form of the practice may include varying degrees of combat training, sport, exercise, spirituality, and other human endeavors, but all martial arts have two things in common: They are abstracted from the realities of personal violence, and, as products of their places and times, they reflect a particular culture and mindset.

 

What is classical fencing?

Classical fencing is the use of the three "modern" weapons (foil, épée, and sabre) more towards the "element of culture" and/or "combat training" end of the martial arts continuum and less towards the "sport" end of the spectrum. The differences will be more fully explained below.

 

What are the history of the foil, épée, and sabre?

In late seventeenth century, fashion at the court of Louis XIV dictated the smaller, elegant smallsword (épée court) be worn by all gentlemen as part of their everyday dress. While specially-made blunt practice weapons had existed for centuries, the foil in its modern sense emerged as the training weapon for the smallsword. The actual practice of fencing, controlled by the guild of fencing masters, was very conservative for reasons of aesthetics, combat training, and practicality: Not only was this a courtly art, but masks were not worn, and one could easily lose an eye in an accident. Foil fencing changed and became a more abstract and less conservative game with the introduction of masks in the early nineteenth century. Along with this, as a result of the French Revolution the guilds were disbanded, swords stopped being part of everyday dress, replaced by special dueling weapons—épées du combat—carried to the field in a case. Yet, through this, a martial core still remained: duels still occurred, and swords were still used on the battlefield. Foil fencing taught the principles for the use of any weapon in the abstract. Meanwhile, other traditional weapons continued to be used outside France and outside the formal salle d'armes. These included the great stick or bâton, which continued the methods of the longsword fencing guilds (see below) after they were disbanded by Napoleon. The Italian "foil," meanwhile, was nothing but a lighter, shorter rapier with a quadranglar practice blade.

Unlike the foil, the épée, or French dueling sword, was not considered proper for use in the fencing salle; épée training was only in preparation for the duel. It was not until the late nineteenth century that masters such as Spinnewyn and La Marche began to advocate for the épée as a fencing weapon in its own right. Though this was inevitably a game, it was a much more conservative one than modern épée, both for reasons of traditionalism and because bouts were, at first, fenced to only one touch—and, of course, the duel still existed as a final arbiter of what was good and bad technique. Note that this was only in France: The Italians did not really distinguish between foil and épée, and their dueling sword was essentially the rapier-like Italian "foil" with a sharp blade that was diamond-shaped or triangular in cross-section.

It was also in the late nineteenth century that not only was the Parisian guild essentially refounded as the syndicat of the maîtres d'armes, but national academies were founded for the military masters—at Joinville outside of Paris, and the Scuola Magistrale in Italy. This was the time of the ascendency of the Italian sabre school. The importance of sabre fencing is obvious for military service, and the sabre was also a dueling weapon. Though, formerly, national schools of cutting weapons had existed in all European countries, the Italians were seen as the preeminent experts and were often employed abroad. Modern sabre fencing, though hardly resembling classical Italian sabre, still traces its linege back to Hungarian masters who were taught by Italian masters such as Barbasetti. While modern sabre fencing descends from the dueling weapon, one must remember that classical dueling sabre technique was not so far removed from battlefield use: The italian dueling code demanded an incapacitating wound. Traditional schools of sabre thus keep many of the elements discarded as extraneous to the modern sport, such as circular cuts, actions on the blade, full parry systems, and defenses for attacks to the leg.

So, even though the foil, épée, and sabre are not truly battlefield weapons and lack the brawny cachet of the longsword, what is important to realize is that they teach the principles of combat with all hand-held weapons, both cutting and thrusting, in a living tradition.

 

What is historical fencing?

Historical fencing is usually considered to be the study and use of weapons that precede the three weapons (foil, épée, and sabre) taught today as the core curriculum of European fencing. Historical practice took place on the same continuum of martial arts practice we see today, ranging from recreation to sport (albeit often a rougher, more dangerous sport) to gentlemanly accomplishment to preparation for combat. Obviously, any practice of these weapons nowadays is perforcesportive.

Usually, the skills of using such weapons have been reconstructed from the written record—that is, fencing treatises. However, some "historical" weapons (sword and dagger, many stick fighting systems, flail, etc.) come down to us in living traditions. I would term these, together with classical fencing and the modern sport of fencing, as traditional fencing.

There is, obviously, overlap between the "traditional" designation and the "classical," "modern," and "historical" labels. For instance, the modern sport of sabre fencing is traditional, as is classical Italian dueling sabre. However, though these look very different and are performed differently and with different intent, they share some core assumptions and principles.

(I would also, for reasons I explain in the next section, consider classical fencing as a subset of historical fencing. Also, as I also explain below, I consider training in traditional fencing very important to learning historical fencing.)

 

What distinguishes classical fencing from modern sport fencing?

Classical fencing is a form of traditional fencing in that it is an unbroken tradition, but since its methods and philosophies are not those of the contemporary sport, I would also classify it (in opposition to some other practitioners) as a form of historical fencing.

That being said, exact definitions are harder to arrive at. The question of what "classical" fencing is has been answered in many ways: martial (fencing "as if the weapons were sharp"), technical ("clean" fencing), historical ("fencing as practiced in the nineteenth century"), and by what it's not (fencing "without orthopedic grips" or "without electric scoring"). We should probably include an idea of orthopraxy in our definitions: i.e., it is fencing strictly in the mode of one of the two great national schools, that of Joinville (France) and that of the Scuola Magistrale in Naples (Italy).

Each of these definitions has its merits, but each is also open to criticism. First of all, the weapons are not sharp, we can not simulate the stress of lethal combat without actually risking killing someone, and in foil-play (the venue par excellence for the classical style) one does things, such as compound attacks with multiple feints, that would be foolhardy to attempt with sharp weapons. Likewise, one can fence "cleanly" with an orthopedic grip and using electric scoring apparatus, but I have also seen plenty of rather non-classical "dry" fencing. Though Joinville and Naples had their curricula, their graduates almost immediately began to transform their teachings. (Épée fencing, for instance, was a late development and one not always taught by the more conservative masters save in case of the duel. Are we to say there is no "classical" épée? Likewise, what of Terrone's ingenious, if eccentric, Right and Left Hand Fencing?) Finally, we are twenty-first century people, not nineteenth-century people, and in any case there was a division between "classical" and "non-classical" fencing even back then.

Having considered these definitions, I would define contemporary classical fencing as a martial art, with emphasis on the art. That is, it is predicated by rules and practices, that, while conventional in nature, are abstracted from the realities of combat in earnest. Of course, sport fencing is also conventional and abstracted from the same basis. However, the nature of classical fencing is fundamentally conservative and seeks to continue past practices, rather than improve on them by using the abstracted rules to win a sporting event. Furthermore, like all martial arts, and all arts in general, it has a gestalt, an aesthetic, which must be experienced to be understood. It is also, needless to say, a highly precise and technically correct form of fencing. Lastly, it is a form of acculturation, demanding that its practitioners conform to the norms of gentlemanly behavior.

What does this idea of "conventionality" mean? It means that there are agreed-upon rules and, more importantly, a spirit behind the rules. Both fencers have agreed to subordinate the ends (getting the touch) to the means (maintaining classical form and intent). Accordingly, one can not fence classically unless one's adversary has also agreed to fence classically and has the prerequisite training, though a well-trained classical fencer should be able to at least defend him- or herself from a non-classical fencer of equivalent experience and skill.

That such an understanding exists is beyond argument: I have seen fencers who have never met previously, each coming from different classical lineages, fence together for the first time with a complete understanding of one another, "their parries, attacks, and returns, all rhyming together," as Louis Rondelle has put it. I myself have experienced this with fencers coming from as disparate locales as Paris and California. In some of my favorite fencing experiences, who got the touch was almost besides the point (pardon the pun)—it was the result of correct fencing, with both fencers working together in something more resembling collaborative musicianship than combat (and perhaps with the same sense of one-upsmanship). One makes the touch because one has done the right thing in the right manner—and, of course, the adversary must be a party to this. It is not an easy thing to do, but requires that one put more emphasis on fencing well than on scoring—and, of course, it presupposes that one has the skill to begin with.

Conversely, the modern sport of fencing is about scoring points within the context of the modern rules and electrical scoring. It is OK to be struck by one's adversary if one lands one's own touch a fraction of a second earlier, or performs a symbolic "taking of the blade" or has priority from the "extending arm." All of these actions are derived from the classical practice but have been abstracted into conventional signs. A touch is defined as setting off the electrical equipment, which has led to a number of innovations such as the flick. One also has five or fifteen touches in which to experiment and gauge the adversary and a smooth, even surface to play on. The weapons are called such only by tradition; there is no idea of them representing "real" swords. Modern fencing is accordingly much faster, more athletic, less cautious and places more emphasis on tactics such as clever use of infighting and footwork designed to quickly close distance or remove oneself from reach than on elaborate bladework. There is also, as a result, less emphasis on broad technical development (particularly at the lower levels) than on performing a smaller amount of actions with rapidity and accuracy. (Incidentally, I would also consider modern sport fencing a martial art, as I would other Olympic combat sports such as boxing, Greco-Roman wrestling, judo, and tae kwon do.)

What else are the hallmarks of a classical bout? The distance is slightly closer, since attacks are less ballistic. Actions are based on bladework, rather than footwork. There is less running up and down the piste and more emphasis on the engagement; more extended phrases including ripostes and counter-ripostes, especially from the lunge and within distance; priority gained from the point extending towards the target rather than the distance increasing from the shoulder; parries that deviate the oncoming steel, rather than a symbolic tap; “clean,” conventional fencing with orthodox body and hand positions and bladework; a disdain of infighting; a hit-without-being-hit mentality; and, of course, traditional grips and other equipment.

I will also say what classical fencing is not: It is not "better" than the modern sport of fencing by any objective standard, or something that will give you a magical advantage over a more skilled fencer in a "real duel." I personally wouldn't want to face an "A"-rated épée fencer with sharp weapons. Anyone with that level of training and athleticism will be able to adapt to the conditions in which they find themselves, no matter what they are—not to mention that they would be trained to go for the more lethal (and risky) hit to the torso, rather than the relatively "safe" extended target. Of course, no one duels any more, at least in the Anglophone world; the last duel I know of took place in France in the late '60s. Anyone who makes such a boast is only displaying their own ignorance.

On the other hand, all that being said, if I had the hypothetical choice of five years' classical training versus five years of competitive training before having to fight a duel, I would certainly take the former, since the heart of classical fencing is inculcating the fundamentally conservative habits that will keep one alive in a frank encounter. I would also hope my adversary had made the same choice!

I would also argue for classical fencing's aesthetic superiority. In the modern sport, there is no sense of collaboration: One seeks to to frustrate the adversary, to dominate him, to shut down his plans, to intentionally miscue him and cause him to go awry. After being defeated in a classical bout, one ideally has a sense of being outclassed by a superior artist; after being defeated in the modern sport, one often feels run over by a truck. However, de gustibus non est disputandum. We live in an age where the zero-sum game is the law of the land.

Conversely, fencing in a classical style, however we define it and however skilled one might be, is not going to win you very many modern competions (and if you're interested in that sort of thing, you shouldn't be looking for a classical salle anyway). I would even say that it will give you a positive disadvantage in a modern competitive context. Classical fencing is an activity that must be judged on its own merits and by its own standards.

In short: Classical fencing subordinates efficiency to aesthetics. Modern fencing subordinates aesthetics to efficiency.

 

What is SCA fencing, and how does it differ from what you do?

The SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) is an organization that is often described as "the Middle Ages as they should have been." It began in 1966 in Berkeley, CA, and creates a zone where people can engage in play-acting a romanticized ideal of an idealized past. In the fifty-odd years of its existence, it has developed many unique customs, many of which, while emotionally and socially significant to the participants, have little to do with actual history. Thus, while there are many individuals in the SCA who do excellent work in reconstructing the past, like any other organization, the SCA considered as a whole is more about safeguarding its own institutions.

SCA fencing is a self-referred competitive sport. It uses many conventions that are not found in historical fencing. The chief ways in which what we do differs from what the SCA does are: (1) No medievalist context, with "kings" and "queens," flamboyant salutes, adopting pesudo-historical names and characters, etc.; (2) no "acting out" of hits; (3) modern, standardized uniforms and safety equipment; and (4) a top-down, standardized approach to learning where the technical focus is on traditional and historical technique.

 

How does classical teaching differ from modern coaching?

Fencers in the "old days" would fence conventionally because they had been molded into a system. From the first time they picked up a foil, the master was very much in charge, molding the student into his idea of what fencing should be. Conversely, modern pedagogy, particularly in the United States, is more about student-initiated actions, explosive footwork (which changes the distance), and correspondingly simplified bladework. Coaches are less concerned with the exactitudes of technique than with its results. This is in keeping with the overall development of athleticism in sports and produces independent, tactically flexible students.

Obviously, much of the old way is not suited to our modern world. I am not a Luddite: I believe that much of modern teaching is valuable and makes the process more enjoyable for the student. Rather than slavish historical recreation, the ultimate goal should be to produce a fencer who is not robotic but who still displays all the hallmarks of classical fencing, as well as creativity, initiative, and tactical sense. A high-level classical fencing instructor should be able to take a student through a complicated fencing phrase with regularity, control, and an excellent sense of timing. This requires a great deal of attention on the part of the instructor not to let the student fall into poor habits of movement or technique.

 

Why does traditional fencing help with historical fencing?

Fencing is learned by doing, not reading. You must learn to feel how to do things in your own body. An experienced teacher can help transmit the intangibles of distance, timing, blade sensitivity, tactical sense, etc., which are difficult or impossible to learn on one's own, as well as give experienced, detailed feedback on technique and biomechanics.

 

Who have you studied with?

A number of people, some for longer, some for shorter periods of time, some just for the space of a clinic. Those I claim as teachers include Frank Bethancourt, Cosimo Bruno, Peter Burchard, Chrisopher Caile, Richard Gradkowski, Rob Handelman, Ramon Martinez, Tadashi Nakamura, and Paul Sise.

The entire idea of "lineage" is not apropos to fencing; teaching was formalized into national academies in the late nineteenth century. The canonization of dead masters is a recent and disturbing trend and a duplicitous means of claiming authority.

 

How does classical or historical fencing differ from what you might see in movies or on stage?

Fencing for a dramatic production is a different realm, that of stage combat. Stage combat is a separate art meant to cooperatively produce a reaction in a complicit audience by not striking someone, while much of the art of fencing is to produce a reaction in a non-cooperative adversary in order to strike them. It therefore requires a different approach to be done safely.

 

Do you teach stage combat?

While I've put together some over-the-top choreographies for fun and done some choreographed demos, I don't do stage combat. Rather, I teach real fencing done at full speed and intent with appropriate safety equipment. However, I can recommend some good stage combat teachers.

 

Do you teach the modern sport of fencing?

Yes, I do. I'm not bad at it, but it's not my primary interest, and rather something I took up to become a more effective historical teacher. If you're in Worcester and interested in modern competition (or are looking for a coach for your child), I recommend Syd Fadner at Worcester Fencing. If you're in Western Mass, talk to Paul Sise at PVFA.

My exact certification in modern fencing is as a Prévôt d'Escrime in foil and épée. Prévôt is the second-highest level of certification, the one before master; the ranks are assistant moniteur (instructor), moniteur, prévôt (provost, in the old guild sense), and maître (master). This system dates back to sixteenth century France, and was brought over to this country. The testing consists of written and oral exams on all aspects of theory, pedagogy, and practice, as well as giving several high-level lessons according to a specific format. (The actions and style I chose for my tests, incidentally, were extremely classical in their orientation, and my students were both classically trained fencers.) The reason why I am certified in two weapons is that the United States Fencing Coaches Association tests candidates in each weapon individually—which is a good thing for me since modern sabre has changed greatly from its classical antecedents, and I don't have more than a theoretical understanding of it.

 

Do you compete?

I have participated in classical and historical competitions, and even done well in some. However, while some competition experience is certainly valuable, competing and teaching are separate skills. Some people are good competitors; some are good teachers; a rare few are both. Nor is it necessary to compete to be a "good" classical or historical fencer. This is one of the good things about classical and historical fencing: Though there is the opportunity to compete, it's not all about competitive results. Conversely, the point of the modern sport of fencing is competition.

 

So, why are you certified by a modern coaching organization when you teach classical and historical fencing?

Currently, one sets oneself up as an instructor in historical fencing based upon the say-so of one's own teacher or by the ability to attract students. While, on the one hand, I am not an advocate of over-regulation, on the other hand, the potential for abuse in such a system is obvious. Having an independent professional body say that I am a competent, professional, and ethical instructor with the requisite background in fencing theory and pedagogy means that my students can be assured that I know what I'm doing.

What are the advantages of studying modern fencing? The science of kinesthetics has developed an awful lot in the past century: In the classical era, one was taught what to do, but not necessarily how, why, or when to do it. Some natural athletes became good fencers; others were awful. On the other hand, while I believe the teaching of classical and historical forms can be enriched by the pedagogical methods that have been developed over recent decades, the unspoken concern that sport fencing will "corrupt" other methods is not an issue—the intelligent and technically knowledgable individual can easily distinguish between martially sound practice and the artifacts of the modern sport. (Lest one forget, my original training is entirely from the classical tradition.)

Having said this, I will also maintain that the biomechanics and technical development and understanding developed by the study of classical fencing is invaluable in understanding historical fencing, especially rapier and smallsword. The Italian dueling sword, for instance, is essentially a shorter, faster rapier, and the principles of its use remain unbroken from the sixteenth century to today. Likewise, there is a great deal of common ground between two-handed sword and great stick. The idea of a radical break with the past dissolves the closer one looks at the evidence.

There is also the issue of cross-cultural interpretation. The salle d'armes, for instance, is a particularly French cultural institution, and not only is it impractical to give instruction using the same methods and same language, but particularly French concerns (solidarité and equalité, for instance) don't even enter into the American mentality. This leads to a question long considered by practitioners of Japanese koryu: Can one really "authentically" practice the martial art of a certain culture (or certain time and place) transposed to another context?

Finally, I think that if one is going to teach the history of fencing, one should have a good understanding of the current history. Fencing did not simply begin a long slide after a supposed golden age in the 1880s, and even "classical" forms continue to transform. It is important to know what one might encounter and be able to deal with it. For instance, the classical ideal is to use very little but very precise footwork, combined with techically adept bladework—but one should also know how to deal with an adversary who refuses to give the blade, tries to draw one into making errors with tactical footwork, and closes the distance explosively in the modern fashion. (It is also perhaps worth pointing out, if such things matter to you, that the USFCA is organizationally linked to the International Academy of Arms, and thence to the French fencing masters' syndicat and the pre-Revolutionary guild begun in the sixteenth century.)

 

Do I need to be physically fit to do classical or historical fencing?

In a word, yes. To correctly perform actions in time requires a certain level of balance, strength, flexibility, and body awareness—not that of an elite athlete, but that of a reasonably fit human being. However, these things can be acquired! If you are not currently in shape, learning to use a sword gives you far more motivation to take up and pursue a fitness regimen than joining a gym. It will also help your posture and teach you to use your body more efficiently. The key to lifetime fitness is to find an activity you enjoy and to practice it regularly.

How can you train on days when you're not fencing? Be as active as possible. Walk instead of driving (or park as far away as you can). Think of ways to make fencing postures and actions part of your daily routine. Brush your teeth en garde. Make disengages around doorknobs. Take up a complementary daily exercise: riding horses, yoga, dance, walking, and swimming all blend well with fencing. Alexander Technique helps with body awareness and integrated movement.

By way of encouragement, I am not a particularly talented athlete—but I have been able to become a technically correct and "good" fencer by hard work and perspiration. This is part of what makes a good teacher: Because I've been through it, I can show you how.

 

Why should I study with a teacher when I can read the "manuals" myself?

Like many people, I first became aware of, and involved with, historical swordsmanship in the early '90s. Also like many people, I tried to figure out how to fence through a combination of reading texts, studying history and material culture, transferring ideas from other martial arts like escrima and karate, and practical experimentation (in my case, in the SCA). The end result was only confusion and frustration. I soon realized that, no matter how smart or well-educated I might be, I would need teaching in western swordsmanship in order to understand these source materials. (I date my years in the Art with the commencement of my formal training.)

The vast majority of medieval and renaissance martial arts works are most explicitly not manuals, but rather written for an audience already familiar with the art of fencing and, in the case of the medieval texts (known by the generic name Fechtbücher, or Fechtbuch in the singular) , the teachings of a particular master. There is no medieval "longsword for dummies." However, the universal principles of distance, time, blade opposition, etc., have not, and can not have, changed in the intervening centuries. Applying these principles is not obvious: As in other martial arts, one must be shown how. Also, once one knows one set of answers to the questions posed by the realities of a combative situation, as well as the western way of analyzing the situation itself (which has been consistently based on Aristotelian physics), one can better understand how to use the historical principles and techniques described in the treatises to answer the same question in a different way—while bearing in mind that the historical master's answer might be very different from the classical solution, and that some things, like grappling and disarming techniques, might be very hard to find in modern traditions.

Furthermore, once one has internalized the movement discipline imposed by training in a western martial art, one not only better understands the source text, but one's solution to the universal problems posed by combative situations, lacking specific instruction in the often-ambiguous source material, will be authentically western and "correct." It will not be "authentic" in the sense that you will not be identically replicating "period" fencing—but then, this is an impossibility, since you are a twenty-first century person, with a twenty-first century mentality and body, and in any case, we have no video tapes from that era. (I would go so far to say that the quest for "authenticity" is a historiographical fallacy: While some things are universals, there is much specific to our era.) Finally, you will benefit from the biomechanical efficiency and coordination, as well as the tactical thinking, that are imparted by a living tradition. (At the same time, one must be careful not to transpose anachronisms: There were no spins in longsword, as in modern canne de combat.)

 

Why bother?

This is a good question: Why? Classical or historical fencing won't get you into college or to the Olympics. Then again, the world of sport fencing might not be your cup of tea, either. Here are some things that classical and historical fencing offer to their practitioners:

 

Classical fencing and historical fencing do not currently have the resources or depth of field of the modern international sport of fencing. However, they are in no way inherently "better" or "worse." Faced with an obesity epidemic and, worse, an epidemic of unexamined lives spent in front of TV screens, we should be encouraging everything that gets people off the couch. As the movement grows and more and more people come to realize the value that these pursuits can add to their lives, they will hopefully come into its own. The intention behind this site, and my activites on and off the piste, is to advance these ends.