Sunday, July 31, 2016

Drill Sergeant di Grassi says, "Show Me Your War Face!"

In HEMA, most practitioners understand that we need to train our bodies as well as our minds. However, it's wonderful to look through the fencing treatises and see those same admonishments from the esteemed masters. In this vein, Giacomo di Grassi wrote a wonderful piece that speaks specifically on the need for physical training, and I want to take some time to break down a very useful and poignant section of his work. di Grassi was absolutely unequivocal on the need to condition the body in order to properly execute the Art:

"And because, the knowledge of the manner and Time to strike and defend, does of itself teach us the skill how to reason and dispute thereof only, and the end and scope of this Art consists not in reasoning, but in doing: Therefore to him that is desirous to prove so cunning in this Art, as is needful, It is requisite not only that he be able to judge, but also that he be strong and active to put in execution all that which his judgment comprehends and sees. And this may not be done without strength and activity of body: The which if happily it be feeble, slow, or not of power to sustain the weight of blows, Or if it take not advantage to strike when time requires, it utterly remains overtaken with disgrace and danger: the which faults (as appears) proceed not from the Art, but from the Instrument badly handled in the action.


Therefore let every man that is desirous to practice this Art, endeavor himself to get strength and agility of body, assuring himself, that judgment without this activity and force, avails little or nothing: Yea happily gives occasion of hurt and spoil."

And, because we're a culture of tidbits, here are a few culled from that passage above:

1) "The end and scope of this Art consists not in reasoning, but in doing."

2) "It is requisite not only that he be able to judge, but also that he be strong and active to put in execution all that which his judgment comprehends and sees."
3) "Let every man that is desirous to practice this Art, endeavor himself to get strength and agility of body."

Essentially, di Grassi is telling us outright that if we can't do something that the Art is telling us we should be able to do, we need to condition our body to be stronger, faster, and more agile so that we can execute what the Art requires. The inability to execute a technique doesn't lay fault at the Art, but rather at the person's body who's trying to execute the technique.


This is a curious distinction, because we quickly recognize that it's important to consider the use of pronouns at the end of the first quoted paragraph above. The "strength and activity of body" is the subject of the sentence, and the succeeding repetitive use of  the pronoun "it" then refers to the body specifically. This is an interesting construction, as one's body is the focus, not one's personhood. With this important distinction in mind, we see that according to di Grassi, the body is at fault for very specific shortcomings when we train in this Art, which are:


1) the body's inability to "sustain the weight of blows" due to being "feeble, slow, or not of power"

2) the body's inability to "take not advantage to strike when time requires"

These two shortcomings can be broken down into three physical attributes that must be developed if we're to be effective fencers who wish to accurately reconstruct this Art. The first shortcoming listed above deals with all three attributes: endurance, strength, and agility. The phrase "to sustain the weight of blows" is referring to the continual motions of the fight, the engaging and reengaging that continual happens during a violent encounter. Note that di Grassi is very specific here--he uses the plural, "blows," because a fight is rarely finished after a single strike. In order to then meet and deliver repeated blows, one must condition their body to be able to do so. Conditioning obviously builds our endurance.


The second attribute that can be ascertained from that first shortcoming of the body is strength. di Grassi tells us outright that if our bodies are "feeble" and "not of power" that we will be unsuccessful in utilizing the Art. Strength, then, is an important component to our training. Of course, tied together in the same sentence with the attribute of strength is the third attribute of agility, which di Grassi's translator simply identifies with being "slow."


What's interesting is the component of timing mentioned in the second shortcoming of the body, and this relates directly to agility. This is interesting because di Grassi wasn't satisfied with saying that our body can be slow, but expounded on the crucial element of a fight that a slow body impacts. Timing is not just a function of recognizing that an opening exists or has been created, but coupling that recognition with a body that's physically capable of acting within that small window of opportunity.


di Grassi also doesn't equivocate on the ramifications of not training our bodies. He states that without proper physical training, the body is "overtaken with disgrace and danger." According to this 16th century master, not training one's body is a literal disgrace to the Art, not to mention dangerous.


Finally, di Grassi ends that first paragraph quoted above with a pregnant double meaning. He states that the faults of inability lie not with the Art, but with the "Instrument badly handled in the action." As a fencing treatise, "instrument" could obviously mean the weapon at hand, or being "handled," but given the context of the subject before this final admonition, "instrument" can also be read as "body." Therefore, the admonition reads this way: your body is your instrument--do not handle it badly, but rather hone and train that instrument so that you wield it with endurance, strength, and agility. Without a focus on those physical elements, di Grassi states that we will often experience "hurt and spoil," or in modern parlance, pain and ineffective fighting.



So, train your body hard! In fact, stop reading this and do some interval training: burpees (endurance), followed by a winding drill in response to pressure (agility), followed by pushups (strength).


We're listening di Grassi, we're listening.





Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Practicing Control in HEMA

Exercising control when you're in the heat of a fight can be the most challenging component of martial arts. The masters tell us that control is paramount in our Art, as Joachim Meyer describes in his section on what he labels "the craft": "[The craft] is the art that teaches you, when you realize that your cuts are futile or useless in one place, how you may quickly pull that cut back before it hits, or allow it to go past without hitting, and send it to another opening" (p.73, Forgeng trans.)

It's clear, then that we shouldn't brandish our weapons like a club or a tire iron. We need to train our control just as we train proper displacements, edge alignments, footwork, endurance, breathing, etc. Control is one of the fundamental components of art in the martial arts. If we control our weapons skillfully, then we have a better chance of successfully finding "another opening."

Control contains two branches, both of which are equally important. The first branch is mental acuity or faculty. Our mental state allows us to enter a supreme level of focus or flow with our weapon, which is vital when trying to defend ourselves. To this end, MS 3227a explains that "in real combat or in practicing, you should be joyous in spirit, so that you may pay attention to and perform with a good courage these things which you should do and rush against him.... [...] Avoid fury" (18r). We must control anger and frustration because these emotions lead to injury. MS 3227a also tells us by extension that the control of our emotions allows us to utilize the list of attributes given on folio 17r. Those attributes are:

  • prudence
  • smartness and wisdom
  • mind
  • reason
  • deliberatness
  • readiness
Without a clear and focused mind, we cannot be prudent and deliberate. These are elements of a controlled and focused mind, which in turn build the foundation for the controlled and focused use of a weapon.

The second branch of control is physical proficiency. Good control demonstrates proper technical form which entails an understanding of range and targeting. Flailing and off-balanced attacks are uncontrolled by definition. Control, however, does not mean slow and steady. 

Speed and intent must be learned and trained alongside the training of technique, body mechanics, footwork, etc. Speed and intent are used in a controlled technique, but that technique does not connect or finish with speed and intent! In a nutshell, techniques should not end in full extension, as full extension would ideally end inside or through your target, as our techniques are devised to maim and kill. This is why proper range must be recognized. The technique ends, therefore, before full extension, but within range where a fully extended technique would end inside or through the desired target.


I practice and teach control in two ways. First, through personal exercises. Pell work is crucial here, as it provides a measuring stick with which you can adjust range to meet various targets. Take a look at this video on using a pell to practice control.



The second way to practice control specifically is to use a partner. The partner should wear protective gloves. Your training partner holds their sword out away from their body and turns the flat to receive the blow. Then, cut at the sword with full intent, stopping just as you make slight contact with the flat. You can easily adjust the cutting angles to include oberhau, mittelhau, and unterhau, including the meisterhau. Also, practicing control with a moving target is easy with this method too. Your partner need only move the sword by moving their feet. They should not pull the sword into their body! This is dangerous, as your sword is aiming at theirs intentionally. They should keep their sword out away from their body at all times.

These two methods will help to instill a culture of control in your club. I've heard of other clubs instituting push ups and other physical activities for those who spar without much control, and those are good reminders that control is to be taken seriously. A culture of control is not only the safest way to practice the art, but it's also the best way to gain true proficiency in the craft.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Springeck 2016: Coming together to train!

Shenanigans at Springeck 2016.
Springeck 2016 wrapped up on Sunday, April 24th and I couldn't be more pleased with the result. 11 clubs from 6 states gathered to train, learn, fence, and grow. It's clear that tournaments are a vibrant part of the HEMA community, but Springeck strives to bring historical fencing clubs together in order to train and learn from one another in a non-competitive atmosphere. The philosophy of Springeck is simple--expand your horizons as a fencer by training with others who you don't usually train with. This perspective shift helps fencers to understand our Art from different angles, oftentimes angles they've never considered.

Take for example Katy Lehman's workshop on Saturday afternoon. Katy, an instructor from the Wisconsin Historical Fencing Association, demonstrated that one's goals (whatever they might be), actually colors one's behaviors and actions in a drill. If your goal is to increase your physical fitness, for example, you'll attack the drill with energy and a lot of movement. If your goal is more technique-oriented, you may slow down the drill, analyzing footwork, blade angles, and the pressure/leverage in a bind. Katy's point, as I understood it, is that all of these objectives are valid. We just need to recognize that these goals affect our mindset as we perform a drill.

This was eye opening to me. I never thought of drills in this fashion and never understood that drills could sometimes fall apart because two practitioners were approaching the drill from wholly different points of view. As an instructor, this information is incredibly helpful now that I know to look for these perspectives.

This is the type of eureka moment that Springeck is geared towards. In a sense, we all have the possibility to experience such a moment when we branch out and train with others whose point of view differs from the approach that we're used to or comfortable with. Springeck brings the necessary elements together to allow that possibility to foment.
Sparring during the open free play session.

So what else happened at Springeck? A lot. Open free play, lightning rounds, coached free play (thanks to Axel Pettersson's fantastic seminar at Longpoint 2014), workshops for direct instruction, balloon wars, and a prize play.

What the heck is a prize play? Oh, this is where it gets really good.

A prizing is when a student decides to demonstrate their skill by fencing anyone who will face them. Historically, it was performed in and around London in Elizabethan England as a means for a student to attain the rank of free scholar--a student who was liberated or freed from the possibility of tyranny and oppression because of their ability to fight and resist that oppression.

Many schools have adopted that rank structure, but the Historical Fencing Affiliates (HFA) is an international martial arts federation of autonomous fencing clubs that share a common rank structure based on the historical English system. The HFA has added a few additional ranks to the historical English system, and has also adopted the use of prizing in order to denote the rank of Senior Free Scholar. This year, Ben Lehman of the Wisconsin Historical Fencing Association (another HFA club) played his prize.

One of the great images that sticks in my mind is the start of the prizing. The challengers--all those at Springeck-- lined up to form a corridor leading to the ring, their swords extended high in a vaulted archway. Amidst a percussive slow clapping, Ben entered to cheers and calls. This was his moment, but we were there to push him in order to help him excel. This wasn't going to be a cakewalk for him, and he didn't want it to be.

A single ring was outlined by cones in the center of the gym. Ben stood in one corner flanked by his second, his wife Katy Lehman. Katy was to act as Ben's coach during the prizing. Beforehand, the participants at Springeck were prepped by HFA Provost Aaron Pynenberg of the Wisconsin Historical Fencing Association (WHFA) on what to expect. He explained that he would send in fighters from amongst the group in order to test Ben's skill. Fighters could use a manner of weapons against Ben--daggers, spears, longswords, rapiers, swords and bucklers, messers, etc. were all used. Ben chose to play his prize with the longsword.
Ben Lehman fighting during his prize play for Senior Free Scholar.

Ben fought 119 bouts in over forty minutes. With few breaks, Ben demonstrated his skill again and again as he racked up an impressive 88 wins with a 74% win percentage. The HFA rules dictate that a contestant for Senior Free Scholar must pass with at least a 70% win percentage. Ben hurtled over that bar in a continual flourish of strong binds, superior winding, well-placed thrusts, and superb weapon control. Afterwards, everyone clapped and cheered for him in a sincere gush of enthusiasm for what he had demonstrated. The Springeck spirit pulsed; we all threw what we could at Ben in order to help him bring out his best fighting, and he rose to the occasion, demonstrating a strong skill set in our Art.

Overall, as an HFA event, Springeck encapsulates just one component of the martial journey that we take in this Art. Training is vital to what we do, but that training is not often celebrated with others. Competition surely is, and has its own place among the many facets of expression in this Art, but training, learning, and growing together needs to become a focus too. I hope that the HEMA community finds value in this type of event and begins to sponsor more events like Springeck. Tournaments and competitions are well established; let's do the same for martial training.

For more on the HFA rank structure, take a look at its charter. The rank structure is article 3. http://the-hfa.com/index.php/our-charter



Friday, April 15, 2016

On the Double Hit or Double Kill

Note: I originally wrote this article in 2011.


Novices to this art oftentimes grow frustrated at the number of double hits that are committed while sparring. It’s obvious that a double hit does neither fighter any good and can make fighting with swords seem a game of chance—e.g. one’s opponent so happened to cut across one’s torso while one’s own cut to the opponent’s head was successful. It’s clear there’s no victor in such instances, as both wounds are to fatal targets. Indeed this would not be much of a noble and worthy Science of Defence if one left defense up to chance. The German master of defence Joachim Meyer writes in 1570 that this art is specifically focused on “the protection of [the] body” (49). What aspect of the art, then, helps one avoid the double hit and ensure the body’s protection?

The masters of defence have an answer to this question that they themselves believe are the foundations of the art. This foundation is best understood through Sigmund Ringeck and Joachim Meyer’s description of the terms “vor,” “nach,” and “indes,” commonly translated into the terms “before,” “after,” and “in the instant” respectively. These terms are references to both moments of timing and awareness in a fight. It is through these terms that the double hit—and how to prevent it—can best be understood.

When one initiates a cut or thrust one is seizing the initiative, or the “vor.” However, if one’s opponent does this first, the masters tell us that we should preferably act “indes” by defending and striking in the same instant. So what happens then in a double kill? In the case of the double hit, both fighters are attempting to seize the vor regardless of what the opponent is doing. This mistake is unproductive for both fighters, as neither one is defending their body. The failing then is an understanding of how one acts indes. Ringeck specifically exemplifies how one does this successfully:
When you do not succeed with before, then wait for the after. These are the defenses against all techniques he uses against you. So when you must displace him, make it simultaneous (indes) and strike immediately from the bind at his next opening. Thus you win the before and he remains in the after. (21)

The key here is to understand that one essentially re-seizes the vor by acting simultaneously while remaining aware of the opponent, i.e. recognizing the opponent’s openings created by the instigating attack. This philosophy in turn is expanded by Meyer over one-hundred years later:

    Indes is a good German word, and embodies a serious exhortation to quick judgment, so that one should be constantly swift of mind. For example, if you first strike to the left, and secondly you see at that moment an opening to the right, then thirdly when you rush at the opening you have seen, you must pay good heed where or with what techniques he may come to you, so that you do not overcommit to your attack at your opponent’s opening, and receive harm from it. Thus the word Indes admonishes you to have a sharp lookout, which involves seeing and heeding many things at once. (70)

Meyer further describes ways in which one can keep that “sharp lookout,” such as by taking stock of the opponent’s movements and being familiar with their techniques and what openings those techniques create. It’s also important to note here that Meyer earlier on describes an exchange that can in fact not end in a decisive win for either side, but rather end in both fighters potentially squaring off again:  “[I will teach] how you may well and properly withdraw from him, if not with harm to him, then at least without injury to yourself” (50). It’s clear that Meyer understood the futility of the double hit, and even went out of the way to describe even one’s failure to successfully strike the opponent as an opportunity to get out of the exchange unharmed.

What both masters Ringeck and Meyer have in common is that a good fencer—or a “master,” as a skilled fighter was commonly referred to in many manuals—acts not in response to but in awareness of the opponent. To act in response to an opponent would suggest to always act after the opponent, which is contrary to what the masters teach. However, to act indes, to be aware of one’s opponent while acting, allows one to both defend and strike, or defend and threaten simultaneously.

Interestingly, master Fiore de’ Liberi around 1410 did not describe a fight in these exact terms of before and after, but rather took a more holistic approach by explaining that a good fighter will have these virtues: caution, speed, strength, and courage (66). It’s important to note that “caution” does not mean “fearful.” In fact, Fiore further defines caution as a fighter being aware of “measure” (66). “Measure” in this sense is the holistic representation of the same philosophy explained above by Ringeck and Meyer. “Measure” is awareness of an opponent’s actions through the elements of space, reach, and timing. For a fighter to have measure is to understand one’s capabilities at a given distance and also potential capabilities of an opponent at that distance. Having measure then is the key to both recognizing why a double hit occurs and how to avoid it. An awareness of measure then, is a necessary component to acting indes. Joachim Meyer illustrates a similar point by focusing on the necessity of proper timing: “For daily experience attests how much depends on the opportunity, and especially in combat, since no technique, no matter how good it is, may be usefully carried out, if it is not used at its proper time” (69). The utility of a technique, therefore, can only be weighed through a consideration of measure or time, which requires one to be cautious and aware of the opponent. In fact, the opponent is exactly what time and measure are being referenced to. Therefore, one cannot be said to have obtained proper measure or proper timing if there’s no awareness of the opponent. The aspects of awareness, time, and measure are mutually inclusive. 

The crux of the double hit problem therefore lies with the fact that it occurs when one sacrifices themselves in order to gain a successful strike. The sacrifice extends from a lack of awareness and caution. However, there’s a modern element at play as well, because it further extends from the fact that a fighter who seizes the vor thinks an opponent will naturally respect the technique as a potential threat and defend properly. Due to our modern inability to train in the context of ever having to use these techniques in a life-threatening fight, the most we can ever do is play, or spar. It’s within this modern context that a lack of real danger has the tendency to breed an unrealistic and anachronistic action while attempting to act indes. The fighter’s mindset regarding the non-lethal nature of a wooden waster or steel blunt allows for the bodily sacrifice that is inherent in the double hit. More simply, if one doesn’t perceive an attack as a real threat, why defend against it? The focus, with this flawed mindset, becomes ensuring a successful hit no matter the cost. But, to forget the heavy cost of such a sacrifice due to the lack of real danger in our modern context is to forget the real martial and lethal context that was the genesis of the art in the first place. This martial mindset is one of the most difficult components of the art to grasp exactly because of our modern context. In fact, because we will never use these techniques in actual combat it is easy to argue that fully attaining this martial mindset is impossible. The double hit, then, can never fully be eradicated or expunged from training. However, it can absolutely be minimized through true understanding and practice of the fighting principles mentioned above.

Is this then to suggest that Renaissance fighters never experienced a double hit? Of course they did! However, fighters who earned the title of “master” from their peers learned how to minimize their occurrence. The proof of this lies in the fact that these masters survived real combats. Moreover, the masters that wrote the treatises on the art of defence mention time and time again the purpose of the art as a personal defense. This seems obvious, but it’s a realization that many fail to comprehend—the authors of these fencing manuals used these techniques to successfully kill or defeat others without being killed themselves. Fiore specifically recounts in the beginning of his treatise that he had to defend his honor by utilizing the art “no less than five times” with sharp swords in a gambeson, “without any other defensive weapon” (8).

Incidentally, it is erroneous and foolhardy to suggest that the fault of the double hit lies with the opponent and not with oneself. If one seizes the vor and attacks, it is not the opponent’s fault for acting incorrectly. The opponent is also seizing the vor, but doing so by sacrificing themselves. To put it candidly, if your opponent strikes at your opening, regardless of when, you have incentive to defend yourself. One must learn to recognize when an opponent is striking without awareness or caution—it is part of being aware oneself. It is then possible to follow Ringeck’s teachings by defending against this strike committed unawares and regaining the vor, thusly protecting one’s body.



Works Cited

De’ Liberi, Fiore. Fior di Battaglia – M.S. Getty Ludwig XV 13. Trans. Tom
Leoni. Rev. 4. Self-published. 2009.

Meyer, Joachim. The Art of Combat a German Martial Arts Treatise of 1570.
Trans. Jeffrey L. Forgeng. London: Greenhill, 2006. Print.

Ringeck, Sigmund. Knightly Art of the Longsword. Trans. David Lindholm and
Peter Svard. Boulder, CO: Paladin, 2003. Print.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Andre Paurenfeindt - Twelve Rules for the Beginner Fencer" Part 2/2

This is a continuation of the previous post which examined rules #1-6. To begin there, click HERE.


I mentioned in my commentary on rule #6 that "soft," "hard," "weak," and "strong" could be interpreted to mean both the pressure in a bind or the divisions of a sword. In other words, a person could be strong in a bind or they could use the strong of their sword in a specific way. Nevertheless, I realize that by artificially dividing up Paurenfeindt's rules into two segments of six rules each, I didn't consider rule 6 and 7 side-by-side while I was writing the previous post. If you consider them together, Paurenfeindt clarifies which of the ideas he is referring to. So, in short, I goofed. Below is my re-written rule #6, after which is exposition for rule #7-12.


EDIT: Rule #6: "Search for the weak and the strong / Indes, note this word"


These two lines offer some interesting insight when considered together. Indes actions, or actions done "in the moment of," are actions in which the feeling of pressure and proper execution of timing allow you to act in the measured instant of your opponent's technique. Depending on what your opponent has done, your technique would require specific blade positioning in order to be effective. Blade positioning deals with the dynamics of bringing your blade to act on an opponent's weak, as in the case of a counter thrust, or on your opponent's strong, as in the case of a counter cut. For example, if your opponent assumes an ochs position and thrusts to your face, one counter from pflug would travel through longpoint and into ochs, thereby meeting your opponent's blade on the weak as it came in and off-setting that point. This setting aside of the point--the weak portion of your opponent's blade--allows you to take control of the center and to then counter thrust. Similarly, searching for the opponent's strong means to bind lower on the blade, thereby giving you both the defensive setting aside and the leverage to make a cut all in the same moment of your opponent's initiating cut. Therefore indes is more than just acting at the same time as your opponent, but being aware of the defensive component of your technique. This is exactly how one avoids double hits. It's not enough to simply act in the same time as your opponent, but rather to have the knowledge to search out the corresponding division of your opponent's blade that will set aside their technique while creating an opening for your own. In this way, a double hit is avoided.


Basic martial concept: Defending oneself while simultaneously threatening the opponent



Rule #7: "Consider soft or hard / Nachreissen is your tool"

In feeling the pressure in a bind or similar engagement (i.e. grabbing an arm, shirking an opponent's hold on your weapon, etc.), one must understand when the opponent is soft because they're transferring energy elsewhere--often in the middle of switching techniques or trying something else--or when the opponent is hard which is often because they are pushing through towards their target.

What's vital to keep in mind is that your opponent's pressure is indicative of the technique they are trying to execute. That pressure is also relative to the forces being applied by both combatants. For example, if I enter a bind with my opponent and go weak, or soft, I'm not going weak simply to do so. Going weak in and of itself is not a conscientious choice or strategy. What I'm actually doing is shifting my target--attempting to strike elsewhere or attempting to strike with a different part of my weapon--which is causing the weakness in the bind, precisely because my focus lies elsewhere. If my opponent were to focus elsewhere as well--go weak, just as I did--then the bind would evaporate and our weapons would be freewheeling, the benefit of fuhlen lost.

Furthermore, following after, or nachreissen, is a way in which your sense of pressure in a bind allows you to make a cut or thrust in the moment an opponent is trying to set up their own technique. Ultimately, following after is a result of acting in-between an opponent's techniques. As they pull back or set up for a second strike, you follow their recovery with a strike of your own. A transitional moment--between cuts, between guard changes, etc.--is potentially a moment where openings can be exploited. If you have established a bind, nachreissen becomes a powerful tool that can utilize the feeling of soft or hard to take advantage of that transitional timing between techniques.






Basic martial concept: utilize pressure to your advantage 


Rule #8: "Strike before and after / Do not close range too hastily"


This is one of my personal favorites because here Paurenfeidt demonstrates the need to be aware of all timings of a fight, not only indes. At times, you can seize the vor and strike first, your successive strikes maintaining that initiative. At other times, your opponent has seized the initiative, and you have been forced to fight in the after, or nach. At still other times, you choose to fight in the after, waiting for your opponent to leave an opening you can exploit. The point is, a fighter needs to be aware of how to utilize all of the timings in a fight.

Paurenfeindt's admonishment not to close range too hastily is sound advice. The effect of closing range is that the timings become much shorter. At close range, the speed at which techniques are executed is much faster than at middle or far range. As fighters close distance, the relative timings become shorter. If you think of a boxer working on a heavy bag this will make sense. As a boxer closes with the bag, their short punches are lightning quick and often follow in rapid succession. To close that range, however, a boxer often leads with a powerful strike to cover their advance, their arm at full extension. This leading punch is much slower (in relative terms) simply because the distance it must travel is longer. Once that distance is closed, techniques can follow in quick succession. If you're trying to strike before and after in order to command the timing of a fight, a hasty closing of range may give the advantage of a command over the timing to your opponent. Haste assumes incorrect planning or a lack of awareness.


Basic martial concept: Gain proficiency with all timings


Rule #9: "Fight near the body / Do not neglect the harassing strikes"


Zeckrur or the "harassing strikes," also potentially translated as "provocations," are described by Joachim Meyer in 1570 as "not actually delivered as a cut, but is rather flicked; [...] you make your weapon snap at your opponent...with the flat or foible of the blade" (Forgeng trans. p. 59-60). This suggests a type of harrasment or provocation of the opponent whereby you are trying to provoke him to create an opening he was otherwise keeping closed or to bait him to respond in haste with a poorly conceived retaliatory strike. In essence, the beginning fencer is reminded to create opportunities. This is part and parcel to controlling a fight, or at least controlling one of the engagements of a fight.

The first line, in my opinion, is the most enigmatic of the twelve rules. If the two lines are taken together, however, I believe we can make more sense out of what it means to "fight near the body." If one is to use the flat or weak to make harassing strikes, one must keep in mind that those harassing strikes are not an end. Instead, as a means to an end they create opportunities to aim for an opponent's vital targets, namely the body and head. Therefore, if you wish to successfully target the head or the body, you must do so when there's a safe opening, and that can be achieved by baiting the opponent with harassing strikes.


Basic martial concept: Control the tempo of the fight by using threatening strikes to create opportunistic openings


Rule #10: "Step close at the bind / otherwise you will be wounded"


This one is fairly simple. In a bind you are most threatened if the blades are weak on weak. It's very simple and fast to perform techniques such as a durchwechseln where the opponent slips the tip of his blade under your own in order to thrust. In order to avoid this, bind at least in the middle of the blade, or more preferably strong on strong. To do this, you must step close. Implied here is the sense of audacity that you need to close in a bind. Beginners are often sword shy and prefer to hand snipe or make ineffective cuts out of measure rather than engage in a true bind. This is connects nicely with rule #12.


Basic martial concept: When engaging, do so in a way that maximizes your ability to defend yourself.


Rule #11: "The front of the hand is called the long edge / Seldom attempt deflections with the short"


The long edge is determined by one's grip, as I describe in this video. In general, deflections with the short edge are more difficult because of the handwork required. I have also read translations that state "seldom suffer a parrying of the short" (Christian Trosclair trans.), which puts reception of the parry on the active agent. If your short edge stroke is parried--i.e. you've "suffered" a parry"--I can only imagine that the handwork required to return back to the long edge is difficult in order to recover. I believe that the intended audience needs to be considered here. For a beginner, the handwork required to parry with the short edge is certainly more complicated than a long edge parry. As with anything, practice makes switching from long to short edge fairly simple. However, for a beginner, the transitioning handwork between long and short edge often feels clumsy, unsure, and awkward.


Basic martial concept: Perfect that which comes easy first, or at least rely on easier, foundational material.


Rule #12: "If you frighten easily / Do not learn to fence"


Fiore dei Liberi points out that audacity or boldness is a trait that all fencers must have. Indeed, all martial arts require that you be able to defend yourself using violence. There's no escaping that fact. If you attempt to fight with timidity, you will get hurt. This is certainly not to say that those who are timid shouldn't train in martial arts. They should, as long as they have the express purpose of eliminating that timidity. To be timid, or fearful, is to hang back, receive blows, and not take the inherent risks that violent confrontation demands. This is dangerous, as the requisite mindset for accurate self defense is not present. As an instructor, watching a timid person become more oppositional and forward is immensely rewarding, and I've always been in awe of the way in which learning self-defense promotes positive change in a person. So, to add on to Paurenfeindt's rule, I would say, "If you frighten easily, and don't care to change that fact, do not learn to fence."


Basic martial concept: Martial arts are a violent pursuit; understand and come to terms with this at the outset.


Andre Paurenfeindt's rules are a wonderful springboard for instructing novices. They outline many of the basic martial concepts that are vital to understanding more complicated material, and as such, provide a base for a martial artist to further explore other fighting systems as well. Moreover, these rules can also be used to delineate early rank if your fencing club uses a ranking system. We do this in the NJHFA. As members of the larger Historical Fencing Affiliates, we use Paurenfeindt's rules to help define our Novice and Scholar ranks implicitly, if not explicitly (click HERE to see the ranking section of the HFA's charter). A solid foundation in these rules are a great way to gauge proficiency in the art and evaluate a practitioner's skill set for rank advancement.

 
 



 

Sunday, November 1, 2015

"When you can snatch the pebble from my hand, it will be time for you to leave." OR Andre Paurenfeindt's "12 Rules for the Beginner Fencer," 1516 - Part 1 / 2

Having committed HEMA heresy by alluding to an eastern martial art show in the title of my post on historical European fencing, the famous scene from the 1972 TV series Kung Fu is fitting to think about when discussing the German master Andre Paurenfeindt. The scene in the TV show depicts an aged kung fu master instructing a new student on how the student will know when they've achieved a certain proficiency in the art. The line quoted in the title of this post underscores the various--and often enigmatic--martial concepts a student needs to hone in order to do the seemingly simple task of snatching a pebble from his master's hand. That, however, is a Hollywood construction.

By contrast, Andre Paurenfeindt's "12 Rules for the Beginner Fencer" establishes exactly what those often enigmatic skills are in a more specific and less whimsical way. I'll walk through each of the twelve rules and outline the major martial concepts that are espoused in each one. These are fantastic pieces of advice to keep in mind, no matter your skill level. (Note: I use the Michael Chidester and Eli Combs translation.)


Rule #1: "Whichever leg stands in front is bent / And the rear is extended to create a strong base."


A fighter's stance is the basis of all movement. The front leg is bent to allow for quick stepping while the back leg is stretched or extended (but not locked straight) to provide the structural strength needed when delivering a technique. This is reinforced by the third rule which stresses that your feet are to remain apart. The strong base is a concept across many martial arts and stresses the idea that your techniques are flawed or weakened if your base is structurally unsound.


Basic martial concept: stance is a basis for all techniques


Rule #2: "Fight high with extended body / Shoot to the openings powerfully with your reach."


It's said in both MS. 3227A and by Sigmund Ringeck that you are to mainly fight to the upper openings. This then not only focuses the attacks to remain at head level but also the resultant binds. To bind and wind safely, fully extend your reach and properly adjust your footwork to maintain that maximized sense of measure. I define measure simply as reach + footwork, and one of the best ways to zero in on one's own sense of measure is to hit a standing target, like a wooden pell. In class, I use the simple phrase "fight long" to embody Paurenfeindt's advice. This gets across the idea that, for example, you should not be making strikes with the tip of your blade if you are in wrestling range. If you do not make strikes or other techniques with an accurate understanding of measure, you can severely weaken the attack by connecting with the wrong portion of your blade, miss your target, put yourself in jeopardy, or some combination of all three.  Paurenfeindt is stating here that a fighter must develop an intuitive sense of their own measure in order to consistently hurt the opponent while simultaneously remaining protected.


Basic martial concept: targeting requires a comprehensive knowledge of measure


Rule #3: "Strike and step together / And set your feet against each other."


Constant motion is a major tenet of martial arts, and therefore it's important to coordinate your techniques with accurate stepping. To attack or defend successfully, your feet will often be opposed or set against each other. For example, one foot will be forward, the other backward, one foot will be turned towards the opponent, the other away (think of the die waage or horizontal stance), etc. This allows for a purposeful distribution of weight and coordinates with an attack or defense to create powerful and effective techniques. In other words, what you generally do not want is to have your feet together or to have one foot directly behind the other. If your feet are together they can be described as being with each other rather than "against each other" and do not provide the strong base that's described in rule #1. If you've ever experimented with the ways in which shifting your body weight can add or subtract pressure in a bind you will understand that necessity of having your feet apart rather than together.


Basic martial concept: constant motion includes coordinated attacks and footwork


Rule #4: "He who steps after striking / Will find no joy in his art."


It's hard to find joy when you're dead! A strike needs to be coordinated with the step in order to execute a technique at proper measure, as described in rule #2. If you strike without stepping, you'll end up at improper measure, and a whole host of issues can develop putting your safety in jeopardy. Remember, measure = reach + footwork, and measure is therefore a factor of not only your ability to physically reach your target but also your ability to accurately perceive the distance to your target. The difference here with rule #2 is that rule #2 connected measure with that of the high target. In rule #4, Paurenfeindt is recognizing that in general terms, one must coordinate the technique with footwork in order for there to be art in our movements (and through that art, joy, as in, "holy crap, the technique worked!").


Basic martial concept: proper measure MUST include footwork


Rule #5: Note what the flat is / Do not fence left if you are right-handed."


Getting in a twofer, Paurenfeindt stresses not only the importance of using the flat in both the parry and the attack but the importance of mainly fencing from the right if you're right-handed (and conversely of mainly fencing from the left if you're left-handed). Of course, Paurenfeindt isn't saying don't ever fence from the left if you're right-handed, he's simply recognizing that the most powerful strikes come from our dominant side. We have to keep in mind that his target audience is the "beginner fencer." Once a fencer becomes more skilled, attacking from both sides should be a focus in training.


Basic martial concept: All parts of the weapon can be used; attack most often from the side you're most coordinated and most powerful


Rule #6: "Search for the weak and the strong / Indes, note this word"


There are a couple of ways of understanding the admonishment to search for the weak and the strong. The first concerns the pressure in the bind, the second concerns the actual divisions of the sword. Here, given the fact that Paurenfeindt expresses the importance of the word "indes," I feel it's best to consider the rule as an expression of the importance of pressure and what to do with that pressure. In feeling the pressure in a bind or similar engagement (i.e. grabbing an arm, shirking an opponent's hold on your weapon, etc.), one must understand when the opponent is weak because they're transferring energy elsewhere--often in the middle of switching techniques or trying something else--or when the opponent is strong which is often because they are pushing through towards their target.

What's vital to keep in mind is that your opponent's pressure is indicative of the technique they are trying to execute. That pressure is also relative to the forces being applied by both combatants. For example, if I enter a bind with my opponent and go weak, I'm not going weak simply to do so. Going weak in and of itself is not a conscientious choice or strategy. What I'm actually doing is shifting my target--attempting to strike elsewhere or attempting to strike with a different part of my weapon--which is causing the weakness in the bind, precisely because my focus lies elsewhere. If my opponent were to focus elsewhere as well--go weak--then the bind would evaporate and our weapons would be freewheeling, the benefit of fuhlen lost.

Furthermore, the moment in which you feel what your opponent is doing and thereby act with that information in mind, is the gist of the idea of indes. Paurenfeindt asks us to note that word within the context of pressure, weak and strong. In energetic and earnest freeplay, the feeling and use of that pressure happens in a moment. As martial artists, this concept must be honed and refined.


Basic martial concept: utilize pressure to your advantage


Rules 7-12 will be discussed in the next post.


Tuesday, October 6, 2015

What Counters Ochs? Krump Pow! - Tournament Review

Walking up to my opponent, I held my Albion Liechtenauer while I breathed heavily through my mask. "Do you think your hit across my shoulder got in while I hit you on the forearm?" I said.

"Yeah, my sword deflected the arm hit," my opponent said, taking off his mask as we spoke in the middle of the ring.

"But I'm pretty sure that I cut your arm a tempo before you hit my shoulder," I countered.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was a double. We closed, grabbed, and both swung nearly at the same time."

"It was close," I said, "but I don't think it was a double. The grabs were pretty messy and we both started swinging. Look, how about we throw it out and try for something cleaner?" I offered.

"Yeah, that works," my opponent said as he turned and walked back to his corner, throwing his mask back over his head.

This is not a usual conversation during a tournament. The fact that there was a conversation already makes it unusual. The Krump Pow tournament held in Appleton, WI this past weekend was hosted by the Wisconsin Historical Fencing Association and led by Aaron Pynenberg. The tournament--according to their published rule set--"minimizes the use and roles of judges and maximizes the involvement of the participant." And that it certainly did!

Never before had I seen a tournament that didn't rely on a judge but instead asks the fighters to determine what happened after an exchange. The rules allow for fighters to throw out what was otherwise indeterminable or sloppy and give it another go. The sole head judge, however, is there to act as a check and balance, to ensure the conversations are productive and that clean techniques are not argued. This level of oversight is helpful in keeping the participants honest, but the culture that was quickly established by Friday night showed that the head judges were rarely leaned on to make the tough call. The grounds for this culture were clearly laid out Thursday, when the rule set was demonstrated at the pre-tournament briefing.

The effect of such a rule set was immediately noticeable. I quickly looked forward to the meetings in the center of the ring to discuss what had happened in an exchange, and was happy that meetings didn't even need to take place for the clean and obvious exchanges. As a result, one of the common themes people spoke of between their matches as they looked on was that they were simply having a good time. The martial intensity of a tournament was there (the prize table was insane--swords everywhere!), but so was something more--a collaborative energy that gave me the sense that the other competitors were there to test their skill and discuss learning; they were not simply trying to win.

Less is sometimes more, and this sentiment was certainly embodied in the Krump Pow tournament. Fewer rules, fewer judges, fewer bad calls. The experience that arose from the martial atmosphere became less about the tournament and more about the fighting. In other words, the tournament machine itself was stripped down, allowing fighting to fill that space. As an indication of this, if a registrant signed up for all three events--open steel longsword, mixed synthetics, and single stick--they were guaranteed 30 matches. 30!

As I quickly moved from match to match over a two day period, I kept thinking about how rapidly the tournament structure was throwing me into the ring again and again. It was a blast! Move out of the way, tournament. I have some fighting to do.

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