By Paul Esau (The Cascade) – Email
Print Edition: March 21, 2012
Fencing is a gentleman’s sport, which is why when Alexei Summers—The Cascade’s pipe-smoking, suit-wearing, gin-and-tonic drinking, aristocratic* resident Russian—revealed he was a fencer, I wasn’t too surprised. Yet when he revealed he was in need of a hapless peasant to thrash with his blade (a sparring partner in more common parlance), I was shocked by the opportunity.
“Pick me Lord Alexei,” I cried, “Though I am but a humble journalist from the uncouth territories of California!”
“Shut up,” he commanded, “or I’ll have my polo horse trod on you!”
Thus it was agreed that I, Paul Esau, would be given the honour of crossing swords with royalty. And it was how I found myself, last Thursday morning, standing in the Envision Athletic Centre garbed in quaint white vest, an irritatingly cramped mask, and equipped with whippy little sword straight out of a Dumas novel. The first came with an uncomfortable crotch strap, the second with a jaw-strangulating grip on any potentially clever banter, and the third turned out to be a sabre, not a traditional foil. Not that I could tell the difference.
Fencing it turns out, is one of those sports that is strictly rooted in tradition. Kicking, punching, ambush tactics, and deliberate mutilation are not encouraged, which is surprising considering the mortal consequence of losing a real fencing match. Both combatants are required to restrict themselves to a single line of movement (dodging sideways is illegal and highly dishonorable), and to keep the hand without the sword behind the back. “Touches” must be scored on the upper body (no deft emasculations), and, unlike in a certain popular film, it is unusual for combatants to flip, or spin, or fight left-handed.
Lord Alexei, for his part, was surprisingly generous with my fencing faux pas, and even suffered me to land a hit or two upon his gentlemanly torso. The lightweight elasticity of the sabre allows for a terrifically fast exchange of blows, which generally favours the attacker over the defender, so even an unschooled opponent can occasionally overcome skill with sheer violence. Yet, in general, fencing is an elegantly minimalist sport. It favours movements of the wrist over those of the arm, small, efficient attacks over massive, swinging blows. In other words, I wasn’t very good at it.
There’s about a half-millennium of theory behind the evolution of fencing, along with a bunch of French words like croisé, dégagement, and fléche. Lord Alexei would perhaps explain it if asked. My personal fencing theory is best described by Antonio Banderas in the first Zorro movie. “Do you know how to use that thing?” Anthony Hopkins asks him pointing to a sword. “Yes,” Banderas asserts, “the pointy end goes into the other man!”
Even you can’t argue with that, Alexei.
*He’s a Lord of the small nationality of Sealand.
By Alexei Summers (The Cascade) – Email
Any avid sportsman—or at least any who can make the claim that they are in fact an avid sportsman—has at one point in time turned their gaze to fencing and thought that it would be something they would like to try.
It’s a game of swords. The rules are simple: land a blow on your opponent to score a point. Gather enough points and the match is over. There are three different types of fencing weapons – the foil, the épée, and the sabre. Each different weapon changes the game a little, because of the design of the sword, one must alternate one’s method, and technique in accordance to it. Some fencers specialize on just one of the three swords.
However, fencing is not for everyone—some people simply do not have the skill—and the unrealistic depictions of wasteful fast-paced swordplay in cinema has given most westerners a false sense of what the sport really is. My own fencing instructor, a man who is my friend, and mentor, and also the former coach of the Ukrainian SSR National Fencing team, and current assistant coach of the Canadian National Fencing Team, Victor Gantsevich, once said something about this which I am very much inclined to agree with. I believe it was something to the effect of, “if one were to pair up an Olympic fencer with these people on the television, and allow them to fight with their respective styles—that is, the television swordsman doing all these fancy moves for aesthetic, and cinematographic purposes, and allowed the other fencer to use his regular French or Italian dueling methods—that the television swordsman would be finished off in a matter of two seconds.”
The reason for this is simple. Modern fencing is not about fancy moves, it is an art form, and it is about finesse, rather than strength. It is like playing a physical game of chess at rapid speed – it requires high intelligence, and the ability to mentally process, and react to changes in the environment in the blink of an eye.
To quote my instructor, Victor; “Fencing is about the brain. You must think first. Then you can duel.”
Modern styles of fencing became redefined by the French and the Italians in the late 19th century. Before then, it had largely been a blood-sport, where a duel would be to the death to settle a quarrel. Eventually it evolved and became a sport and a hobby, rather than a cause for bloodshed. When, in 1896, the first modern Olympics were held in Athens, Greece, fencing became an official Olympic sport, and it has been ever since.
Every year there are Fencing World Championships held, where athletes attend the event looking to prove their skill with the blade. The last Championship took place in Catania, in October of 2011. Next year, for the 2012 Fencing World Championships, it is to be hosted in the city of Kiev, in Ukraine. Footage of the 2011 Championships are available on YouTube. To those curious about the wonderful sport of Fencing, it might give one a clearer idea of what fencing is like on a competitive scale by watching these videos.
Fencing, above all, is a sport of honour, dignity and finesse. Every match begins and ends with a salute, and then of course, comes the clash of the blades, and the rush of adrenaline.
Yet, there is always honour and courtesy. It creates fast-thinking sportsmen, and strong men and women of integrity, and develops true grace under pressure in the athlete.
