Form and the Free Arm in Fencing: Then and Now

Form and the Free Arm in Fencing: Then and Now

By Nick Evangelista

Angelo’s L’Ecole des Armes, 1763.

Much of the modern fencing world rejects traditional form as being old-fashioned and lacking any significant relationship to the modern sport. And, yet, as Maestro William Gaugler, founder of the first fencing master program in the United States, at San Jose State University, in 1982, points out so aptly in an article appearing in Fencers Quarterly Magazine (Fall, 2002), function—or the skillful application of foil, epee, or sabre—flows out of proper form. Established form, honed over centuries, can be accurately viewed as a “fine tuning mechanism” for fencing.

The great Helene Mayer (left), sometimes described by her opponents as a “brick wall,” because of her solid, unbreakable stance. A bout during the 1936 Olympics.

One might argue what constitutes “proper” form, but it is clear that the best form would be those attributes that produce a balanced condition for a fencer, so that he or she often achieves an expected positive result. On the other hand, no matter the success of any attack, collisions, falling down, repeated poking and jabbing, or bizarre twisting and gyrations would put said action outside the realm of good form. Well, it worked, anything for a touch, and the end justifies the means, should not be excuses for sloppy or brutal fencing. It should be noted that sometimes bad actions work simply because a fencer’s opponent made a bigger mistake than he or she did. To my way of thinking, the bottom line should be, What if these weapons were sharp? That should be a fencer’s line in the sand. That is what makes fencing fencing. Anyway, a sensible person might think that. Denizens of sport fencing world have disparaged me in print for saying this.

Practical Form Historically Speaking

Since traditional form in fencing was developed in an age when men were still fighting to the death with sharp swords, we might draw from this that the ideal form would, by necessity, be those actions which insured a good chance of survival in any personal combat situation. Being able to hit an opponent, say, without being hit would be a critical, since a tie with deadly weapons would be a disaster for all concerned. There then would be nothing fanciful, extraneous, or meaningless in one’s form, for these attributes would get someone killed very quickly. All rational fencers would shrink rapidly from behaviors leading to negative conclusions. Also, it would have been poor business practices for fencing masters to teach anything but good form—since anything else would produce dead non-paying students. It is from these realities that fencing’s practical cause-and-effect approach arose.

Traditional Versus Sport Approaches to Form

Formless sport fencing in action.

To achieve mastery, you need some something to anchor you, to give you a center from which to move freely and effectively. This is form. Or, more to the point, traditional form. In fencing, it is a way to direct the body as a balanced whole. But, today, there are those who have arbitrarily deemed traditional form to be obsolete. They reason that we aren’t fighting duels anymore, so they look to the scoring box alone to give what they consider “meaning” to their game. Furthermore, if making the light go on the machine is the point of it all, then cut out everything else that slows down this outcome, and focus just on the touch. Speed, strength, and aggression replace mastery. Why do they think this way? First, seeing fencing as nothing more than a sport--and the purpose of most sports being to accumulate more touch downs, goals, points, runs, or whatever than the other guy in a specific time period--they reduce fencing to its lowest common denominator. This doubtlessly comes from the single-minded sport mindset that asserts that winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing, a concept that has probably turned more athletes into assholes than any other sports concept. It also muddies the waters for fencing, because it refuses to admit that any sport could offer something beyond ego gratification or entertainment. The value of traditional fencing—and within traditional fencing, the purpose of form--never enters the picture. Form, to the modern sport mind is simply something some other people once did. But fencing isn’t just about feeding electric impulses to a glorified doorbell or amusing spectators.  It’s about a process mastered, both physically and mentally, that changes the person participating in the mastery in a positive way. The acquisition of skill embodied in traditional fencing form becomes the touch, with or without technology. A great touch, denied by no obstacle, is just that, a great touch. Achieving this, the glaring lights and the strident buzzing of an intrusive mechanical appliance become redundant. If not that, we are left with… what? Random exchanges resembling freeway collisions, off-balance and cramped twisting and jabbing, the absence of clear, clean outcomes on the fencing strip, personal histrionic displays implying success to impress judges, and an increase in fencing injuries, both self-inflicted and those dealt to others.

Explaining the Free Arm

On guard and ready for action.

So, what is it specifically that has thrown modern fencing into a tail spin? Do modern fencers fence on their toes like ballerinas? Do they fencing with their eyes closed? Do they fence backwards with their blades stuck between their legs? Well, maybe some do, but that’s not the real problem. The problem has to do with the free arm. The free arm is the lynch-pin of traditional fencing form. Once a valuable fencing tool, the free arm’s only point today is to hang limply at the fencer’s side. Previously, fencers held up the back arm, straight out from the shoulder at a 45-degree angle, and then straight up at the elbow. The hand was relaxed.

So-called “advanced” sport fencers believe that holding the free arm up to be an affectation of another age, a useless holdover of polite, artsy, eighteenth-nineteenth century fencing, sort of a dance of the sugar plum swordsmen. Moreover, it is asserted by many sport teachers that holding the free arm up causes the shoulders to become tense. The rationale, then, is that dropping the arm “keeps the shoulders relaxed, and so promotes freer movement.” Sounds good. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Not even close.

A highly credible centered lunge employing traditional form during a fencing bout.

The free arm does have a purpose in fencing.* Actually, it has a number of purposes, all of which are lost when the arm is allowed to dangle like a piece of overcooked linguini. Certainly, for students new to fencing, there is some initial tension in the shoulders when adopting the traditional fencing on guard position, but this quickly passes as you grow into it.** I have been fencing for over fifty years, and I can assure you that this is so. That being said,  I would suggest that dropping the free arm is just a quick fix for lazy fencers.

So, what do we gain by employing the free arm in the traditional fencing style? First off, the free arm held up acts as a counter-balance, pure and simple. It keeps the fencer upright, promoting a balanced position whereby body weight remains distributed equally on both legs. This is a good thing for fencers who don’t want to fall down. Moreover, this balanced stance ensures the fencer will lunge from the back leg rather than stepping with the front foot, which, in turn, increases forward acceleration and distance covered. Holding the arm up at a forty-five-degree angle from the torso also keeps the body angled in relationship to an opponent, giving the opposition as little straight-on target surface as possible to attack. Finally, the back arm snapping back straight, palm up, serves as a rudder, like on a boat, enhancing point control. At the same time, the arm being thrown back will add to the acceleration of the lunge. As far as I can tell, all of these outcomes are positive things.

  Salle de Kamikaze

Attacker and defender, both are leaning unsteadily through this awkward exchange.

Now, let’s look at the fencer who has been seduced by the Dark Side of the Fencing Strip. He drops his sword arm because this is what he has been taught to do. Opps! When he moves quickly, he loses his balance. Without a counter-balance, his weight shifts to his front leg. Now, all he can do is step or run or jump at his opponent. He is constantly off-kilter. If he has fenced for a while, he probably has, or will, hurt a knee or ankle--front, back, or both—since his weight shifts unevenly as he moves. Not surprisingly, sports medicine studies focusing on fencing injuries since the 1980s have cited the aforementioned body parts as the most likely areas to be injured in the modern sport, blaming “poor fencing technique” as the chief culprit for said mishaps. Serious head injuries caused by fencers colliding is also mentioned in the above surveys.

Their free arms dangling limply, neither fencer is in a position to establish a strong advantage over the other.

However, even without injuries, the fencer who adopts the above modern approach puts himself or herself into a less than advantageous position on the fencing strip.  When the free arm is down, the sword arm shifts sideways toward the outside line, opening up the inside line; and the chest squares to the opponent, exposing the entire target area to an easy attack.  The fencer’s feet immediately slip out of alignment, destroying any remaining ability to lunge effectively. Not surprisingly, the on-guard position being a holistic enterprise, when the sword arm moves to the outside, wider parries are the result. And, to be sure, dangling at his side, his free arm will not help him with his lunge, his balance, or his recovery. Many modern fencers, faced with the inability to perform an adequate lunge, simply resort to running, leaping forward, or jumping high into the air for their sole sources of locomotion. Is it any wonder that sport fencing matches so often descend into incomprehensible jab fests? This a dead-end for intelligent fencing.

But, to be fair, such fencers will always have relaxed shoulders.

Nice trade-off!

*As a reminder, when I am talking about fencing--unless I specify otherwise--I am talking about the dynamic traditional art and science of fencing that I was taught by my fencing master Ralph Faulkner, which is also the fencing I teach. When I talk about sport fencing, modern fencing, post-modern fencing, Olympic fencing, classical fencing, or historical fencing I feel like I am talking about the multi-dimensional Marvel Cinematic Universe.

**There is a dynamic in sport called the SAID Principle. This stands for: Specific Adaptations to Imposed Demands. This means that when we make new physical demands on our body, it immediately begins to adjust to these new requirements.

WHY?

Why?

 By Nick Evangelista

Why do I teach what I teach?

Today’s fencing, sport fencing, Olympic fencing, with its athletic explosions of frenetic irrationality,  is as far away from true fencing’s intent, content, and spirit as fencing has ever been its centuries old existence.  True, this current incarnation of fencing, the escrime d’jour, is the recognized purveyor of the game, but it is neither an art nor a science. It is simply organized chaos that seems to be growing more chaotic and incomprehensible as time goes on. God save us from the inspiration of the individual fencer. It takes but gives nothing back. There is nothing to give back. I could never support this, much less teach it.  I need more, because from the beginning of my training I realized I was being shown a treasure. I had to pay for it with my time and effort and dedication; but, eventually, if I wanted it enough, it would be mine. It wasn’t the stuff of daydreams. It was a real system guided by both mastery of form and logic.  Who could ask for anything more?

If you are a sport fencer reading what I have just written, you may well call my observations a rant, and proclaim to the heavens that I am full of it, and that today’s fencers are the greatest fencers who have ever lived. It wouldn’t be the first time I have encountered such sentiments from the sport community. My books on fencing, and my time publishing Fencers Quarterly Magazine have brought me numerous examples of sport fencing’s umbrage over the years.

As a final qualifying note, I do have a degree in History, which I would suggest, at least theoretically-speaking, steers me in the direction of critical thinking, a necessary ingredient in any kind of meaningful discourse. By way of this notion, in college, I had a professor who would tell students before essay tests, “I don’t care what your feelings are. Give me ten reasons for what you’ve stated is so.” I have always tried to follow this directive.

So, what about those greatest fencers who have ever lived? I have seen discussions online regarding these fencing people, and, by and large, the named all seem to be denizens of the twenty-first century. Not surprisingly, I suppose. By my estimation, these picks, based on the present state of fencing skill, simply show profound ignorance, bias, and a provincial sense of history.  A short list of true champions might include such names as Lucien Gaudin, Helene Mayer, Aldo and Nedo Nadi, Ellen Preis, George Piller, Edoardo Mangiarotti, Alex Orban, Ilona Elek, and Christian d’Oriola. That they lived and breathed and fenced in the primitive twentieth century in no way diminishes their relevance to the fencing world when we talk of champions, real champions. Some of them actually fenced their entire lives without the dubious support of fencing technology. Once upon a time, fencers achieved greatness through measured ability rather than artificial manipulations designed to make sense of nonsense.

Aside from the aforementioned comparisons of skill, growing up in a fencing world where fencing was still fencing, I have personally witnessed the sport of fencing devolve to its present level for a half century, giving me a unique eye-witness point of view. This is why I have suggested previously that today’s champions would be nothing without their electronic crutches. By the way, I do not speak of electric fencing as a bystander. I have fenced and competed with electric foil and epee, and so I know their pitfalls. On the other hand, the best bout I ever fought in my life was fenced with an electric foil, so I also know, when used in moderation, their strengths. If anyone asks, I simply supply the necessary cautionary tales.

And what is the biggest problem I see with electrical fencing? What I worry about most is when I see skill and intelligence being measured in electronic interventions, because these “accomplishments” can be easily mistaken as valid benchmarks of human achievement. And this, in fact, is exactly what has taken place. Fencing as fencing has been dehumanized and robbed of thought in a mindless dash for an electrically generated impulse.

The fencing of post-modern concepts, the fencing of now, is a system victimized by a technological brainwashing of its own making. Behavioral Psychology, the science of response conditioning—that is, behavior modification--observes how bells and whistles, rewards and punishments, interventions, and modeling can alter thought and action. It really doesn’t take much effort, especially when the motivator possesses powerful incentives. Unfortunately, becoming trapped in something bigger than one’s self without a roadmap is a pitfall of modern life. Worse, as the system becomes more intricate and invasive, we become smaller and more dependent upon it. Instead of internalizing the system, the system internalizes us. When I watch videos of gymnasiums full of fencers running back and forth on fencing strips amid flashing lights and strident buzzers, all I see is assembly lines full of bean counters.

An illustrative true story: A few years ago, a student of mine was fencing for a large south-western university club, when, one day, he showed up for practice in his fencing jacket and jeans. An assistant coach looked at his pants, and asked, “Where are your fencing pants?” My student said, “Where I learned to fence, we always fence in jeans when we practice.” The coach looked puzzled. “You can do that?” He nodded, adding, with a grin, “And sometimes we even fence outside.” “You can do that?” the coach said again. “Oh, you must have had a very long extension cord.” Figure out the final reply for yourself.

Taking the above thesis beyond the fencing piste, I sometimes wonder if mankind isn’t already morphing away from Homo sapiens into some sort of hybrid, perhaps Homo electronicus, a human that can neither think nor act effectively without the benefit of artificial prompts. Can anyone these days, married to their cell phone, operate effectively in the world without their electronic teat? Are we that far away from Homo electronicus right now? I do not own a cell phone/smart phone/iphone. I have never recognized a need for one.

For my own part in the story of our species, I teach fencing as I always have, as a human skill supported by the mastery of a long-perfected system. When I wrote my book, The Art and Science of Fencing, in 1996, I said, without hesitation: “It is human beings who carry out the manipulation of the foils, epees, and sabres. We aren’t machines on the fencing strip. Fencing isn’t some cold, impersonal mechanism, but a vigorous, red-blooded, highly personal expression of mind and body.…Human experience, after all, is the essence of our art.…It is important for beginning fencers to realize they are part of something deeply rooted in man’s existence.” Today, twenty-six years after setting down those words, I still believe this more than ever. I will always champion human mastery over technological interference in fencing.

 This is why I teach what I teach.

THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE TEACHING ME!

That’s Not What You’re Teaching Me!

By Nick Evangelista

It never fails.

When one of my students watches the fencing during the Olympics, or they scan YouTube to watch some fencing videos for some pointers, someone inevitably comes to me the next time they have a lesson, describe what they saw, and they say, “That’s not what you are teaching me!” And I always reply, “No, I’m teaching you to fence.” And here they look like they are lost. I shrug, “We live in a post-modern world where things that aren’t are.”

They don’t understand, being denizens of the Twenty-First Century, that the world hasn’t always been what they see on their cellphone screens, and maybe never was, even with the words “certified” and “consensus” attached to them.  “Official” can be purchased, and conventional thought may wither with age. I am from another planet called the Twentieth Century, which, although having many faults, it still had a straightforward underpinning epitomized by tradition and a sense of mastery, a work ethic that demanded an old-fashioned, Old World sense of quality and honesty that transcended the superficial. That is the world I grew up in.

I explain to students:

Fencing was once another game that had its roots in something called, The Logic of the Sharp Point. The idea was to hit and not be hit. This was a hard and fast concept embedded in rules and honored by masters of the Old School--French, Italian, Spanish mostly--for whom fencing wasn’t a game but a way of life founded in principles of survival that weren’t to be trifled with. This was the fencing world I inherited from my teacher, and which I will follow, as an unbroken thread, to the end of my days. To my way of thinking, this link to the past gives real meaning to what I pass on to others.

Fighting with swords, as a martial art, was the impetus for fencing for centuries, the things one learned to stay alive in antagonistic encounters. Besides potentially extending one’s longevity, these behavior modifications had a positive effect on both the psyche and the body, even if it didn’t turn one into a killing machine. When fencing shed its lethal its lethal origins, it was still a problem-solving device, an engaging exercise, a confidence builder, a map to the past and future, ennobling the spirit and making the body and mind a more durable whole.

But then, one by one, the old fencing masters died of old age, and there was no one left to hold back the tide of change. New “masters” filled the void. There was talk of speeding up the game, simplifying it, making it relevant to modern times. I heard it said a million times, “That’s the way they do it in Europe now. Fencing is changing. Get used to it.”  The powers-that-be announced that fencing was evolving; but to me, as the process, refitted to athleticism over mastery, it was fast being lobotomized into a one-note scramble, sans defence, to simply hit first.

Today, official fencing, called “sport” or “Olympic” fencing, is built around the ubiquitous electric scoring machine. I like to describe it as modern fencing’s “life support” system, because modern fencers couldn’t operate effectively without it’s flashing lights and buzzing buzzers. Without it, fencing would die in a deafening din of physical gibberish. In this incarnation of fencing, we see the one note Logic of the Scoring Box, which presents the simple premise of hitting your opponent before he/she hits you, a modern equivalent of Old West quick draw shootout. Most exchanges, if you could call them that, are over in seconds. It’s boring. And that is all we are left with. Well, that and childish displays of imagined brilliance by fencers trying to convince the officials, through their over played exuberance, that they deserve the touch over their opponent’s equally over played exuberance. A question: should performance art truly be part of fencing? Remove the innards from the game, and all you have left is a stuffed animal that looks like something it isn’t.

This incarnation of fencing, fermenting over the last forty years, reflects the modern demand for instant gratification which can only be arrived at by cutting loose five thousand years of striving for mastery. It’s a video game on steroids. Yes, a different game. Once upon a time, fencing was a life skill, a way of thinking and doing that transcended the fencing strip. When I see modern fencing, with its bellowing, running, leaping pokers, I say to myself, “Well, it is a sport. And it certainly is an athletic sport. But what’s the point of it?” I have been fencing for over fifty-one years, and I still find newness and challenges hidden within my fencing’s boundaries. That’s because there is so much to discover in the traditional game of fencing.

This is what I tell students who ask me that godawful question. And, by the time I finish, there is a long moment of silence before we go back to the lesson proper, and I say, “Let’s get you on guard.”

No one ever asks me for clarification on this issue.

In Praise of 10 Historical Fencing Masters

In Praise of 10 Historical Fencing Masters

By Nick Evangelista

Marozzo

1.)    Achille Marozzo: for his early attempt to bring an ordered system of combat to fencing. Opera Nova (1536).

Agrippa

2.)    Camillo Agrippa: for his stressing the value of the thrust. Tratto di scientia d’arme (1553).

Fabris

3.)    Salvator Fabris: for consolidating the best ideas fencing had to offer during the 16th century. Scienza e pratica d’arme (1606).

Capo Ferro

4.)    Ridolfo Capo Ferro: for popularizing the lunge, and insisting that fencing engagements should be carried out in a linear fashion. Gran simulacro dell’arte e della Scherma (1610).

Besnard

5.)    Charles Besnard: for establishing the superiority of French theory and practice over the Italian school during the 17th century. Le maistre d’armes liberal (1653).

Liancour

6.)    Wernesson de Liancour: For removing from the French system of fencing the majority of theories and practices that were either outdated or manifestly false in the mid-17th century. Le Maistre d’armes, ou l’exercice de l’espee sculle dans sa perfection (1686).

Danet

7.)    Guillaume Danet: for his general fencing principles which became the basis for foil fencing in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Art des Armes (1766).

Hope

8.)    Sir William Hope: for his numerous books on the small sword. Various titles (1687-1729).

D. Angelo

9.)    Domenico Angelo: for establishing during the mid-18th century the concept that, beyond its martial origins, fencing could be employed for exercise, and as a sport to enhance health, poise, grace, and character; and for writing a book that became a showcase of French fencing for decades. L’Ecole des Armes/The School of Fencing (1763, 1765, and 1767).

H. Angelo

10.)  Henry (Harry) Angelo, son of Domenico: for fully defining and expanding his father’s notions on the healthful benefits of fencing, and for welcoming everyday citizens as potential students, not just “persons of rank,” as his father imagined. During the late 18th century, when fencing was otherwise fading away as a martial discipline due to the ascendency of the pistol as a dueling weapon, his insights infused new life into the art. His book, A treatise on the utility and advantages of fencing, giving the opinions of the most eminent Authors and Medical Practitioners on the important advantages derived from a knowledge of the Art as a means of self-defence and a promoter of health (1817), was the medical verification of his ideas. He also published a less ornate, and cheaper, version of his father’s The School of Fencing (1787 and 1799) to further promote his strategies. In addition to the aforementioned, he was the first fencing master to publicly promote the concept of fencing for women. The author and biographer of the Angelo family, J.D. Aylward (The House of Angelo, 1953), described Henry Angelo as having “a shrewd business head with a gift of turning circumstances to professional advantage.” Moreover, as it turned out, what he thought was also good for fencing.

Letter to a Sport Fencer After His Visit to My University Fencing Club in 2015

Letter to a Sport Fencer After His Visit to My University Fencing Club in 2015

By Nick Evangelista

Hello,

It was an interesting experience meeting you earlier this week. But I have to be honest with you, the aggressive fencing you have been taught and displayed on Tuesday does not even remotely fit into what I teach, and I cannot permit it in my club for a number of reasons. 

First, our fencing club was created to be a place where individuals could come to learn to fence, not fight for their lives. We do not charge opponents, we do not flick, we do not yell, and we most certainly do not pin our opponents against walls in an effort to demolish them. These things fly in the face of everything I believe fencing should be. This is not the Middle Ages. Nor is it Fencing Fight Club. It may be common fare elsewhere, but I do not deal in that type of sport sensibility. 

By the way, it is very poor fencing etiquette to come into a school, and tell students they are doing things wrong, because they are doing what I have taught them-- at least to the best of their abilities-- and in criticizing them, you are likewise criticizing me. Also, I give my students the opportunity to make mistakes, because this is part of the learning process. I have been fencing for 47 years--between me and my fencing master we share 110 years of unbroken fencing experience--and I do not make up what I teach. There is tradition and logic in what we do here. If you have experienced something else, I can only say you are in error.

I teach a long-established system of fencing based on finesse and strategy, not the anything-for-a-touch approach, sometimes described as “the inspiration of the individual fencer,” that is prevalent in the present competitive fencing world. This is not the Olympics or the World Championships, and I really don't care how "champions" do it. Where students eventually take their fencing when they leave me is up to them, but from the starting point of this club, I require behavior that absolutely no one is allowed to violate.

Moreover, I believe the type of fencing you have been trained in to be dangerous.  With the amount of aggressive energy, you put into your attacks—as an example, the exchange where my student's foil blade was bent backward into an L shape in the forte when you ran onto it—someone will eventually be injured. I have to say, I have never seen anything like that particular blade bend in almost 48 years of fencing. * I can do nothing less than maintain the highest level of safety for everyone in the group, including you. This should be obvious. Not only because a serious injury would result in the club being shut down, but also, most certainly, because of law suits, which would be disastrous for all concerned. In all the years I have been teaching, I have never had a student injured beyond the occasional bruise or welt. This is because one of the hallmarks of my teaching is personal control. I plan to keep my safety record intact.

In a way, I blame myself for what transpired when you were here. I should have checked you out before I let you fence with anyone. I did not, which was my error. But I will not repeat my mistake. I cannot let you bout in the fencing club again until we have sufficiently modified what you have been taught. The only thing I can offer you now is for you to take lessons with me in the club setting until we have accomplished this. I am speaking of learning the measured skills of the traditional French school of fencing. Needless to say, this regimen excludes all forms of pistol grips, French weapons only. The alternative is to not fence with us again. This is for the safety of all concerned, yourself included. **

You have to understand I founded this club, I am the fencing master, and so my word and judgement—based on traditional fencing principles and critical thinking--are the law of the land in this matter, no exceptions.

 Sincerely,  

Nick Evangelista

Maitre d’Armes

Explanatory Notes:

 *With some judicious pounding from my five pound maul, after about an hour I was able to straighten out the L shaped blade. It surprised me! My student is still using it. Two more miracles and I’m going for sainthood.

 **Not surprisingly, the individual in question did not return to the club.

Location, Location, Location

Location, Location, Location

By Nick Evangelista

Once upon a time, as the story goes, I had a problem with the internet. I was dogged by an incorrect reporting of my fencing school’s location. It was not of my doing. As a matter of fact, I have no idea how this particular information managed to be listed, or who posted it. Since 2002, I have only reported to the world that I am located in Springfield, Missouri. I have left my exact address open for reasons that I will explain. This being said, trusting the internet, you would believe, if you hit on your favorite search engine that my school address was: 637 W. Tampa St., Springfield, MO 65802. This, I must tell you now was and always has been, WRONG!!!!!!!!

Unfortunately, for nearly eighteen years, I tried at various times to get this canard expunged from the public record without success. Hence, it became the “official” non-location of the Evangelista School of Fencing.  Of course, I had never taught at this address. In fact, I had never even been to 637 W. Tampa until I decided to visit the location out of curiosity. It was easy to find. It was right in the middle of the industrial section of town.  I thought from the outside it looked like an abandoned liquor store. But, as it happened, it was occupied, and being occupied it turned out to be a Head Start Center for preschoolers. I can only wonder how many millions of people had gone to this place over the years expecting to see fencing, only to leave thinking my school must have gone out of business, mainly due to the commercial awfulness of where it was situated.  Or maybe because I was an incompetent teacher of fencing. I will say, though, there was plenty of parking space.

Occasionally, I would get emails from individuals asking if it would be alright to visit my “fencing school” on Tampa, to which I reply, “Not if you ever plan to meet me.” I’d then explain the above scenario, which made me sound, I think, screwy at best. At the very least, it may have been suspected I was lying to them in hopes of avoiding creditors. Or maybe I was in the witness protection program. Especially since I did not then, and still do not, publicly identify my location in Springfield, as a matter of course.

The question then becomes: why didn’t I, and still don’t, pinpoint where my school could be found? The answer is quite simple: my fencing studio is located in my home, and so I discourage foot traffic and drop-ins. I offer private instruction set up by appointment only. With this in mind, I don’t want people showing up when I am eating dinner or taking a bath, or when I am sleeping. Nor do I want curious people intruding on my private lessons.  Family members and friends are welcome if the student so wishes, but this is my only deviation from private. Private means private.

The reason for my choice is school locations to me is simple. Many years ago, when I was fencing my way through Europe, I much enjoyed those tiny salles that were situated in some fencing master’s home. They were warm and friendly, unlike the large, impersonal venues where I could easily be ignored or viewed as an outsider. Never was I treated with anything but kindness in any fencing master’s home studio. This must have made a strong impression on me, because many years later, when I began teaching on my own, no matter where I was living, this was where I set up shop. Even when I lived on a farm, I immediately made a space for giving fencing lessons. To me, fencing and home are one and the same.

Anyway, not long ago, with much perseverance, and maybe astounding luck—and I’m not exactly sure what/why/how/when I did what I did--I managed, happily, to have this advertising curse exorcised. Therefore, if you want to get in touch with me, don’t be looking for me on Tampa St. among the running, screaming, jumping tots (no, I don’t mean sport fencers). Send me an email here from my website, and ask me about lessons. Once we hammer out a day and time for your lessons, I will give you my address, and directions, and we’ll take it from there.

I generally respond to inquiries immediately.

Do Fencers Hate Me?

Do Fencers Hate Me?

By Nick Evangelista

The computer age has given rise to many noxious entities over the years, some of the worst being cyber-bullies, pundits whose chosen concern is to condemn, and those who simply hate and have an easy venue for spreading it. I lump all these together here because they are all predators looking for victims. They invade, even ruin, lives because it gives them a sense of power.  Also, since they generally operate cloaked in the internet’s provided anonymity, it is reasonable to assume they are by and large lifelong cowards. I am well-acquainted with this type, whether they come as individuals or as groups. Once you create anything—like authoring a book, for instance—and present your work to the public, you automatically paint a metaphorical bull’s-eye on your forehead, and hand out metaphorical rocks suitable for throwing from dark places. This has been the case for me since my first book, The Encyclopedia of the Sword, was published in 1995. Of course, this is nothing new in the world. It has doubtlessly been the case forever. Assassins work best in the shadows. The sad part of my experience with self-appointed blackballers is that I wasted any time at all feeling bad about what they had to say. The good part was I got over it quickly. If you are bothered by such entities in your life, simply consider the source. These creatures of the night have no more power over you than you give them. In fact, they probably have no real power at all in anything, or they be busy doing it instead of trying to piss on you. The great Lord Byron once wrote: “Seek roses in December, ice in June…before you trust in critics.”

Here’s a story:

If you’ve ever visited a certain onlinefencingsite, you may well have encountered an article called, “Why Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista.” The title continues to pop up on internet search engines, so I know it still graces this popular watering hole for sport fencers. Whenever I see the title of the article listed, I can’t help being amused by the singularly pre-biased title. You don’t even have to read the text to know where the drift of it is going. It doesn’t ask the question, “Do Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista?” Nor does it offer a single specific group as opposition, “Why Sport Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista.” It also doesn’t suggest that the hatred expressed therein may be a less than universal opinion, “Why Some Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista.” The implication of this ad hominem diatribe, through its negative title alone, demands that if you become a fencer, you will instantly be consumed by an overpowering hate this Evangelista guy, without even knowing who he is.

I, of course, am the Evangelista guy in the question of hate. Not to be confused with the baseball player Nick Evangelista, or the Nick Evangelista who was convicted of killing his girlfriend by rolling her up in bubble wrap, or the Nick Evangelista who, I am told, owns a lovely bed and Breakfast in New Jersey, or, last but not least, not Nick Evangelista the underwear expert. Just me. I might add, for all this welling hatred being projected at me, I have never felt inclined to hide from my detractors.  I always sign my name to everything I write about fencing. No pen names or handles or anonymouses. I take pride in my work gleaned from over fifty years of fencing, and I stand by it. I explain the whys and wherefores of everything I say.  If there is any flack from my prose, I am not overly moved by it. Sometimes I even include pictures of myself, so those who hate me can see who they are hating. To be sure, I never see who they are. I don’t care who they are. But I certainly don’t hate them. Actually, I think they are kind of silly for wasting so much time grousing about me. Why don’t they just fence? Or whatever it is they do.

Sometimes, I do have to laugh at the criticism that has been lobbed at me. My all-time favorite observation on my writing from a discerning detractor reads: “I have never read one of Evangelista’s books, but I know he is wrong.” I will never be able to live down such an eloquent critique of my fencing ideas. Another message that came to me suggested: “You talk through your ass.” My reply to this, “Oh, he thinks I’m a ventriloquist.” Someone else was upset because I wear an old Santelli mask with a snap-in bib when I fence, something I do because it is comfortable, and it has served me well for thirty years. If I feel like it, I will wear it for another thirty. And yet another detractor reasoned I couldn’t be a very good teacher because I wasn’t operating in some big city.  To that, I can only say, been there, done it, but I prefer the daily pace of smaller.

I could be outraged, saddened, or discouraged by such petty negativity. Instead, I will let my book, The Art and Science of Fencing, which has been selling for twenty-six years, speak for me. It is the bestselling fencing book of all time. Which is a lot of time! I have to admit I have been aided in this achievement by Amazon.com, something which Ridolfo Capo Ferro and Domenico Angelo were conspicuously lacking during their lifetimes. Moreover, no matter what any of those who are enraged by my written words say, despite their loudest negative objections, Evangelista books continue to sell.  This may well create a paradigm clash for some. This metal dilemma is produced when reality runs into personal notions and personal notions lose. Paradigm clashes then generate what is called cognitive dissonance, which may be explained as an extreme apprehension that one’s foundational world view just might be incorrect. Maybe that’s what the haters hate the most about me. Generally, paradigm clashes are handled by individuals by ignoring or distorting the facts. I might add, I have more book titles in the offing.  More hatred, please.

Now, someone reading this might say, “But how does all this apply to me? I’m not an author, or a fencing master, or anyone special. I’m just a person, and the bullies won’t leave me alone. They just keep picking on me. What can I do? Sometimes I wish I was dead.”

My answer: Whoever you are, wherever you live, there will always be bullies. The Internet and social media make them ubiquitous. Remember, though, your life is your own business. What anyone says about you doesn’t mean a thing. Calling you ugly, stupid, or a loser doesn’t make it so. Remember, bullies are trespassing on your private property when they criticize you. So, one more time: bullies have no real power, unless you surrender yourself to them. Conversely, when you deprive them of your attention, they eventually blow away like the dead leaves of autumn. Some may keep knocking on your door to be let in longer than others. Don’t open the door. Number one on your dance card should be to find that which that makes your life shine, whatever it might be, and follow that to wherever it leads you.

One more story:

Winston Churchill, who guided England successfully through World War II—and who, at the same time, was hated by many who opposed him for his efforts—was once approached by an individual who complained how he was being attacked constantly in the media. Churchill , an old hand at fending off detractors, simply replied, “So, you have enemies. Good! That means you stand for something.”

As for me, I stand for simple things:  tradition, honor, truth, and mastery.

My vast contingent of hating haters? I have no idea what they stand for, or what has become of them. Are they still hating? Are they still fencing?

Not interested.

A Moment in Fencing Time: Doing for the Sake of Doing

A Moment in Fencing Time: Doing for the Sake of Doing

By Nick Evangelista 

Evangelista, Faulkner, and Ganchev

It’s interesting how life plays out one’s significant moments.

I believe I have become an able fencing master not only because of my ability to convey fencing information effectively, but because I have paid attention and learned from the experiences only doing and doing and doing can impart. It goes beyond memorizing facts. Doing illuminates the feelings, colors, and textures of fencing. This is the stuff of fencing that you only get by having your face rubbed in it. What you do with it is up to you.

Case in point: out-fencing a great World professional champion, George Ganchev. A defining moment for sure, maybe the defining moment of my life. But when it came, it came without fanfare. There were no medals or trophies. I was not gathered up, and carried around the fencing room on the supporting shoulders of my cheering teammates. No one even came up to say good job. In fact, no one said anything to me. The entire club had watched me fence, and their response was matter-of-fact. Everyone just packed up their fencing bags when the bout was over, and went home.  Ten minutes later, I was engaged in janitorial chores, straightening up chairs, bagging trash, and sweeping the studio floor. After I was done with my chores, I packed my fencing bag, and quietly let myself out of the school.

Not a movie ending.

And yet, strangely, it seemed right, all the puzzle pieces in place.  I thought about it. I’d done my best, not for any reward beyond doing my best. My bout with George came down to one final touch—one yes or no--and I’d pulled it out of the fire. The reward was the experience, grasping this moment in fencing time and making it my own. Doing it, to have done it. How many people are allowed a defining moment in their life? How many people even recognize when they’ve had one?

 Then, again:

 The next fencing day.

Saturday afternoon.

Mr. Faulkner came up to me as soon as I entered the school.

“You know,” he said, “you really beat George the other night.”

“What do you mean, Boss?” I asked.

“Well, after everyone was gone Thursday night, George came back to the school, and wanted to talk.”

“Oh…?”

“That last touch you made on him, he talked about it for a whole hour.”

I had to fight back a laugh.

Sometimes the universe chooses to smear a little icing on your biscuit.

I just said, “Ah,” and nodded.

My venerable Fencing Master stared at me for a long moment with a curious look on his face, and then walked away chuckling to himself.

Without another word being uttered, I was satisfied with that.

A Reply to a Fencer Looking for a Traditional Fencing Venue in His Area

A Reply to a Fencer Looking for a Traditional Fencing Venue in His Area

By Nick Evangelista

The fencing master teaching at home, a time-honored tradition.

Hello,

What can I tell you?  You probably won't find traditional fencing where you live. I did a web search for your area, and they're all sport clubs. They’re easy to spot: pistol grips, assembly-line fencing strips, the mandatory scoring machines. Sport high tech. You can’t fence without scoring machines. Hint: How will you know who got the touch without them?

The alternative to the above is, of course, developing actual fencing skills—physical and mental—that transcend technology. Doubtlessly an old-fashioned, mean-spirited, and subversive thought on my part.  The human being is only part of the modern social equation. I sometimes think we are seeing the end of Homo sapiens, who is fast being replaced by the techno-driven Homo electronius. How many people do you know who can say, “I do not own a cell phone, nor do I want one”?

Sport fencing, then, is a creature that fits seamlessly into its time, a reflection of the artifice over substance world we live in. It is a game of shoot from the hip quick draw, strength, speed, and aggression being sold as mastery. With that being said, it is accepted in the mainstream as normal. Is it any wonder that fencing salles operating under their own power is a rarity?

To be fair, post-modern fencing does not pretend to be a representation of its martial origins. Simply put, it is about the accumulation of electronic impulses. This may be with or without opposition, depending on the strength, speed, and aggression of one’s opponent. With this in mind, it might well be false advertising to even call this electronic scavenger hunt “fencing.” Historically, the term fencing is derived from the word “defence,” so without any supporting protection beyond hitting first, how about tagging it “offencing”?

The above being understood, consider that sport fencing, with all its poking and clenched fist swaggering, would not exist without electricity. The scoring machine sorts out the touches--at least in theory—making the scoring machine sport fencing’s god. Without electricity, the life support system of sport fencing would be mute, and fencing exchanges would be nothing more than a blur of double hits. How so? The all-knowing box, thanks to modern technology, separates and divides touches into micro seconds. Without it, a jabbing conversation between two gyrating opponents would be incomprehensible:  onelongwordwithoutabeginningorendonelongwordithoutabeginningorendonelongwordwith outabeginningorendonelongwordwithouatabeginningorend. But, of course, we have electricity, and so the scoring box beckons with its Pavlovian Sirens song. Like any of the techno traps of the 21st century, it grabs the mind and holds on with a vice-like grip.

Historically, it is interesting to learn that the Russians—formerly Soviets--created the concept of what fencing is today: cut out everything except making the light on the scoring machine to go on before the other guy does. They found the best way to utilize the scoring machine. If you need someone to turn on a light switch, the one who runs fastest turns on the light switch.  It's very Marxian: the end justifies the means. It cuts out the need for mastery instantly. I won’t deny it’s a sport, but is it truly FENCING?

It is not surprising, then, in a world society that worships technology, it is difficult to find someone teaching fencing who was trained in Old World human values. By comparison, the traditional game, minus the frills and almost instant thrills of sport fencing, requires a dedication to a long and hard-won process that, to some, has no value. Those who teach the old-fashioned way are out there, but they are also difficult to find.

You might run into Classical Fencing, which eschews sport fencing like the plague. You might think you have found a home. No scoring machines, no running, no poking, no screaming, no displays of dominance.  But this would be an illusion. Classical fencing is made of fluff, a sanitized version of fencing lost in times past. When I watch videos of classical fencing, I ask myself, “Where’s the energy, where’s the dynamic, where’s the fire?” I think of stationary fencing illustrations from the 18th and 19th centuries, posed stick figures frozen in time. I have heard classical fencers equate fencing to a dance, it being very polite and restrained minuet. Classical fencers have referred to me dismissively as a modernist.

What do I think fencing should be? More than anything else, I see the mind and body combining to create a controlled process that takes puzzle pieces, and instantly arranges them into their logical order.  I call this the Logic of the Sharp Point, which is a reflection of fencing’s long martial past. We do what we do on the fencing strip if those things in our hand were sharp, and we act with the energy, in real world time, displaying all the resolve of hitting and not being hit. It’s not the same as fighting with live weapons, of course; but using this concept is a graphic template for doing our very best, and staying true as possible to the precepts of fencing as a combative endeavor.

I believe in what I teach because what I propose to my students has a direct unbroken thread to more martial times.  This is my road map for fencing, and I have stuck with it for fifty-one years. It is what I learned from my fencing master Ralph Faulkner. It is neither fencing shorthand over in two seconds exchanges, nor is it a elegant dance. I describe what I do as the traditional French School of Fencing, which means it has a link to a militant past.

I'm afraid if you want what you are looking for in your area, you'll have to create it yourself. If you know how to teach fencing, you might offer your services to a YMCA, and teach students one-on-one, until you have a group. Or if you have a house, and you can spare the space, you can turn a room or a garage into a fencing studio. Also, some universities have clubs, and if they don't have fencing, organizing a campus fencing club may be a possibility. I speak with authority, because I’ve done it all.

If you go it completely on your own, you'll need a website. It doesn't have to be spectacular, just something to let people know you are there, and what you have to offer. Pictures help. But, again, keep it simple. There are folks who are turned off by the slick, sterile game that fencing has mutated into. To be honest, I don’t see the organized sport of fencing ever returning to fencing as fencing, but that doesn’t mean we have to give up, or fall in lock-step with the many. There are still plenty of people wanting to learn the art and science of fencing who see it as something that should have honor and skill and tradition and maturity as part of the learning process. Someone needs to be there to teach them. Imagine the desperate move taken by the French Fencing Academy to attract new members to its fold: to combat the disinterest that forty years of running, screaming and poking has produced, they have added lightsaber fencing—a la Star Wars and George Lucas—to its repertoire of weapons. They are selling fantasy to would-be Luke Skywalkers. If that isn’t a cry for help, I don’t know what is.

So, put together a plan. Start small and build. It might take a while for you to create what you are hoping for, but it's not impossible. If you offer something worthwhile, people will find you.

Anyway, that's my story.

Take care, and good luck!

NE

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

By Nick Evangelista

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

                                                                                 -- Dylan Thomas

A remarkable feature of fencing is that it appears to imbue a long and fruitful life onto the active fencer. That is, barring catastrophic intervention.  For instance, there was famed Hungarian master Laszlo Borsody, who was killed in a pistol duel; American fencing champion and Olympian George Calnan, who was killed in a dirigible crash; and the French fencing master Augustine Rousseau, who was guillotined during the French Revolution. The rewards of fencing could do nothing to waylay these unhappy demises. Yet, all things being equal, for those of us not destined to be run over by school buses, hit by meteorites, or eaten by Amazon army ants, there is, through the application of fencing, hope for a lucid and productive antiquity.

There is much circumstantial evidence in the form of very old active fencers and fencing masters to suggest that fencing, if not the fountain of youth, is at least a fountain of not-dead-and-hanging-in-there. We can look back through fencing’s extensive history for numerous examples of the active senior fencer and master.

Sixteenth Century

Maestro Achille Marozzo, fencing master, the first author of note with regard to a unified sword fighting theory, lived well into advanced age, dying in 1553, at the age of 69, Nineteenth century writer Egerton Castle alludes to this fact in his Schools and Masters of Fence (1885), when writing about another famed master, Salvator Fabris. “Fabris was born in Padua in 1544, and began his profession of arms when Marozzo was teaching in his old age.” In a time of plagues, nonexistent hygiene, and poor dietary practices—not to mention an ever-present opportunity for a quick death on some dark Renaissance avenue—Marozzo’s advanced age was a testament to a robust life following the sword.

Ridolfo Capo Ferro, sometimes known as “the Grandfather of Modern Fencing,” was the leading fencing master of the city state of Siena, in what is now north central Italy. Capo Ferro’s treatise on rapier combat, Gran Simulacro dell’arte e dell’uso della Scherma, publish in 1610, fixed many concepts of present day fencing, such as the lunge, into standard practice. Although little is known biographically of Ridolfo beyond his location and his vocation, we can infer from the portrait of him appearing in his book,  that he was a no-nonsense, sturdy, proud man. His age in the 1610 illustration has been set roughly at 52 years, a laudable number of years in such a violent profession. His age when he died has proven rather elusive.

Seventeenth Century

The Great Figg

Fencing master and gladiator James Figg, known as the Atlas of the Sword, was a dynamic individual well into his last days. He was the leading prize-fighter of his day, participating in nearly three hundred public contests of sword skill for money. It was said of him, even in his old age, “In him, Strength, Resolution, and unparalleled Judgement conspired to make a matchless master.” When public exhibitions of sword fighting lost favor in the public’s eye, Figg took up pugilism to earn his daily bread.

Donald McBane, a crusty contemporary of James Figg—with a hard life as a soldier, swordsman, and pimp under his belt (and a silver plate in his head)—went on at the age of 50 to become an illustrious prize-fighter. In all, he fought in thirty-seven matches. In his last public appearance, at the age of 63, he thoroughly defeated an opponent a fraction of his age, giving him several severe wounds and breaking his arm. This contest was later immortalized in a ballad. McBane then went on to write a book, The Expert Swordman’s Companion, which doubled as an autobiography and fencing manual.

Eighteenth Century

Domenico Angelo

Domenico Angelo was the most renowned fencing master of the eighteenth century. In this position, he was the first to insist that fencing had a life beyond a martial art as an adjunct to a healthful and cultured life, opening the door to the recognition of fencing as a sport. His book, L’Ecole des Armes (1763)—republished in 1765 and 1767 as The School of Fencing, and then again in 1787 and 1799 in a redesigned edition—is arguably the most celebrated fencing manual of all time. It has been reported that Angelo taught until a few days before his death at the age of 86. In his wake, he also established a fencing dynasty that lasted for 150 years.

Spy, fencer, and transvestite, the Chevalier d’Eon lived to the age of 82. At the age of 60, he engaged in a celebrated fencing match with the famous swordsman, the Chevalier Saint-Georges, who, at the time, was a third his age. Despite being hampered by wearing a dress, d’Eon scored seven strong touches against his much younger opponent.

Henry Angelo, known as Harry, Domenico’s only son, and a successful fencing master like his father, died at the age of 82, after a productive life of teaching fencing. In his latter years, more than any other fencing master, including his father, Harry single-handedly set out to popularize fencing as a sport in England. His small book, with the big title, A treatise on the utility and advantages of fencing, giving the opinions of the most eminent Authors and Medical Practitioners on the important advantages derived from a knowledge of the Art as a means of self defence, and a promoter of health, illustrated by forty-seven engravings (1817), is a testament to his aggressive efforts to bring fencing to the masses.

Nineteenth Century

Jean-Louis Michel, known throughout his life simply as Jean-Louis, was one of France’s greatest fencers and one of its deadliest duelists of the 19th century. As an orphaned child of racially mixed heritage, he enlisted in the French army at the age of 11, and was, in time, because he showed an immediate affinity for it, trained vigorously in the art of fencing. By the time he was an adult, he was a master of the art, and there are many stories of his exploits. Over the years, he taught the art of the sword both in the army and privately. In his old age, with cataracts on both of his eyes, he continued to teach by touch alone. He died at the age of 80.

Modern Olympics founder Baron Pierre de Coubertin was an avid fencer for much of his life. He, more than anyone else, made sure fencing was included in the first Olympic Games in 1896. The baron, a perpetually vigorous man, died at the age of 73.

Egerton Castle

Author and avid fencer Egerton Castle led an active and creative life, dying at the age of 62. He wrote the much-lauded Schools and Masters of Fence (1885), perhaps the greatest fencing history ever produced. He also wrote numerous romantic novels with his wife.

A fencer from the time of his youth, Sir Richard Francis Burton wrote the scholarly anthropological study, The Book of the Sword (1884), and The Sentiment of the Sword (1911). A prolific author, he also penned his own translations of the Arabian Nights and The Kama Sutra, plus many other books. Burton, who was also a soldier and explorer, said towards the end of his days, “Fencing was the great solace of my life.” He was 69 when he died.

French fencing master Baptiste Bertrand was the most successful teacher of fencing in Victorian London. Moreover, he was the principal arranger of theatrical sword duels for the stage. He also championed fencing for women, at a time when it was still entrenched as a “men only” sport. And, like Domenico Angelo before him, he founded a dynasty of fencing masters that survived for generations. Bertrand, active and teaching to the end of his life, died in his late 70s. 

Alfred Hutton, soldier, writer, antiquarian and swordsman, helped to orchestrate the first English revival of historical fencing in the late nineteenth century. He also wrote a number of fencing-related books. He was active in fencing until his death at the age of 71.

Twentieth Century and into the Twenty-first Century

Regarded as one of the legends of modern fencing, Cuban Ramon Fonst won gold medals in the Olympics of 1900 and 1904. Beginning his winning ways internationally at the age of 16, he was still reckoned a formidable fencer late in life. He died at the age of 75.

The great Spanish master Julio Castello, involved in fencing his whole life, died at 91. Although old age slowed him down in later years, his interest in the development of young fencers never flagged. Almost to the end, cane in hand, he could be found surveying classes taught by his former students.

Giorgio Santelli

Giorgio Santelli, fencing master, duelist, and five-time U.S. Olympic fencing coach, started fencing at the age of 6, and never retired. He was 88 when he died. A few years before his death in 1985, Santelli once noted, “Being my age, I cannot move very fast anymore. But the moment I put a foil in my hand, I start to move. I get a kick seeing myself hopping around.”

Italo Santelli, the father of Giorgio Santelli, was one of the greatest of modern fencing masters. He is credited with bringing various fencing styles into a single method, which, by the end of the nineteenth century placed the Italians among the best swordsmen in Europe. Then, in 1896, he was asked by the Hungarian government to develop fencing in that country. He agreed, establishing the foundation of the Hungarian school of sabre fencing, which produced the most successful sabre fencers of the twentieth century. Santelli taught in Budapest for almost fifty years, and was knighted by the Hungarian for his efforts. Italo was 74 when he died.

Beppe Nadi, lifelong fencing master, and father of champion fencers Nedo and Aldo Nadi, died at the age of 84.

Hungary produced a number of long-lived fencing masters. Lajos Csiszar was over 90 when he died. Odon Niedekichner died at the age of 82; and Casaba Elthes, at 83. Maestro Elthes once observed, “A good coach is like a good priest. He study until he die.”

Well-known German fencing master Hans Halberstadt, coach of the greatest woman fencer of all-time, Helena Mayer, died at 82.

Henri Uyttenhove

A fencer for most of his life, Henri Uyttenhove was the first fencing master ever to be hired to direct swordfights in movies. His work included the Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. classics, The Mark of Zorro (1920), The Three Musketeers (1921), and Robin Hood (1922). A well-respected master in the sport world, he also taught fencing for the Los Angeles Athletic Club; and, later, on a collegiate level for USC and UCLA. Privately, he maintained his own school in Pasadena, CA. Uyttenhove died in 1950, at the age of 73.

Fred Cavens, fencing master at the age of 21, went on to a career as a movie fencing coach and fight arranger in Hollywood, putting together swordplay for films like The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), The Sea Hawk (1940), and The Mark of Zorro (1940). Cavens kept active and working almost up to the end of his life, his last job being the 1950s Disney Zorro television series. He died at 72.

Fencing coach Julia Jones Pugliese, founder of the National Intercollegiate Women’s Fencing Association, and never far from fencing, died at the age of 84.

Maestro William Gaugler established the first fencing master training course–the Military Fencing Master’s Program—in the United States, in 1979. This program is credited with revitalizing the traditional Italian School of fencing when it was at its lowest ebb in America. Not only did Gaugler teach fencing, but he fenced well into his 70s. He was also a much respected Archaeologist and author. He died at the age of 80.

Fencing Master Bob Anderson, former British Olympian fencer and fight arranger, who was responsible for celebrated swordfights in movies like The Princess Bride (1987), The Mask of Zorro (1998), and the Lord of the Rings (2003), was active in the theatrical fencing world almost until the time of his death, at the age of 89, in 2012.

Ralph Faulkner

Lastly, I look to my own fencing master, Ralph Faulkner. A member of two Olympic teams (1928 and 1932), and a movie fencing coach, Faulkner never relinquished his hold on fencing. At times, it almost seemed like he would live forever. During the 1984 Olympics, he was officially touted as the World’s Oldest Living Olympian, and he spent long hours as a fund-raiser for the U.S. Olympic Committee. He was 92 years old at the time. He just went on and on and on. In fact, he taught right up to a few weeks before he died of a stroke at the age of 95 and ½, with 64 years of fencing under his belt. Faulkner once said of his life in fencing, “How can you retire from something you love? When you do that, you might as well be dead.”

The list of long-lived fencers, of course, doesn’t end here. I have only hit on a few examples. With some extensive research, I could doubtlessly write a book.

Finally

Anyway, in closing this essay, I will add one more tidbit to the mixture of fencing and longevity: my own personal experience as a fencer. After all, this is what sparked my interest in the fencing/age issue in the first place.

Nick Evangelista

After 51 years of continual fencing, at the age of 72, I find myself in the surprising position of being a senior citizen. But I do not feel like a senior citizen, nor do I think of myself as one, even though the Social Security Administration and Medicare have labeled me as such.  I teach fencing, and I fence with my students daily, without hesitation. It is surprising to many of those I teach to find out how old I am. One of my kid students announced, upon learning my age, “You’re older than my grandmother!” I told her, “I always take off my mummy wrappings when I teach, so I don’t trip over them, and break a hip.” Last week, I took a 14 mile walk, just because I was having a slow teaching week due to inclement winter weather, and thought I needed some extra exercise. My blood pressure is generally around 110 over 60. And I have weighed 150 pounds for the last 17 years, without dieting. And not so long also, after a physical checkup by my doctor, he announced happily that he thought I’d most likely live forever--unless I got run over by a pick-up truck. I promised to wear my glasses when crossing streets. So, basically, going into my so-called old age, I am in good shape for any age. By the way, I plan on being the first 100-year-old active fencing master. That’ll be one for the Guinness Book of World Records. I only have twenty-eight years to go!

Cognitively, I might add, I am still thinking the useful thoughts. Everyday single day of my life, I have to illuminate the whys and wherefores of fencing for students. I pride myself in being able to explain everything I teach, and why I teach it. I enjoy being put on the spot with questions. Why this, and not this? What does this mean? Where did this come from?  Said the Greek philosopher Pericles, “One who forms judgement on any point but cannot explain it clearly might as well never have thought at all on the subject.” I believe in this statement emphatically.

To me, there is no life without the mind, and no mind without life. I have long advocated the idea that the real game of fencing goes on between the brain and the hand. It is a subtle blend of the mental and physical. And herein lies the issue of fencing and longevity. More and more, medical science is finding how the physical and the mental interact and support or hinder one another on a deep cellular level.

Fencing, then, as I see it, is one of those activities that create a powerful bond with the world, promoting health for both the body and the mind through its endless and varied challenges. Each new opponent connects us to the moment. Every attack and every parry demands our best, and tests our will.   Is it any wonder fencing and old age go together? We have no choice, as long as we live, but to keep tacking birthdays onto our resume; but fencing, in its magical demand for our attention, our resolve, our ingenuity, and all our physical possibilities, keeps giving us new pages to write our story on.

In fencing, we have a stepping stone to a life of passion and experience, of creation and challenge. Certainly, in the world, there are many routes to this end. But in fencing, we also find a remedy for old age. In the end, who wants to slip quietly from existence, when you can go out to the sound of clashing swords?

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

By Dylan Thomas 

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.