"You Look Just Like the Manual"
by Steven Reich

I have heard various people at Western Martial Arts seminars and events remark at how closely I look like the plates in Fabris’ manual when I demonstrate a position or action. While I wish I could boast of a natural-born martial prowess, the real answer is much more mundane: practice. This seems to be a rather trite statement, as practice would be the obvious path for learning and executing the techniques of a master. However, not all practice is the same; what you practice and how you practice it is as important as how much you practice. As such, it is important to follow a curriculum with a set course and a specific set of goals.

Unfortunately, the curricula of most western martial arts have not survived, and there are no living masters of these systems to offer the constant correction we all need. This makes our job as students even more demanding, as we must constantly analyze and re-analyze the texts. As I learn more about my selected master’s system, I have to constantly review my body mechanics. If I find a particular action unusually hard, then I need to figure out why. Since I am acting on faith that the author of my selected manual was competent (at the very least), or even a master (as many of the authors of the historic treatises were), I must assume that if something is particularly difficult, then it is a failing on my part. Rather than just fixing it by doing what "feels natural" to me, it is important that I analyze my approach--sometimes even re-thinking some of my fundamental interpretations of the system I am studying. There are various reasons why I could have a problem. My physical execution could be flawed, or my theoretical understanding could be incorrect, or the technique might beyond my current level of proficiency (or there could be another reason beyond the three that I mentioned, or even a combination of two or more reasons). I need to address these problems through the words of my master.

One of the first pieces of a system that a swordsman will learn is usually the guard or guards. This is often the very first place where a student will wander from the path. Sometimes, when teaching Fabris’ rapier, I will hear a student complain that it is too physically demanding, or that he prefers another guard (from another master or formed in a way he has selected arbitrarily). I cannot help but wonder what would happen if that student said the same thing about a particular position to the instructor of a Tai Chi class. Or if he complained that the ‘horse stance’ was too physically demanding when taking a Tae Kwon Do class. Many of the positions are physically demanding, but the solution is not to modify them at your whim. Rather, practice them until you can perform them correctly. As you practice, your body will adapt and build the strength necessary to hold the desired position. However, it is important to remember that fencing is a physically demanding activity--it is no coincidence that so many masters extol its virtues as a form of exercise. Furthermore, the guard is not merely a position of convenience, it is a posture designed for a specific purpose. Even two masters who seem as diametrically opposed as Silver and Fabris both go to great lengths to describe the correct positions of their guards and the theory of their use, along with each guard’s strengths and weaknesses. While each might utilize different guards within his prospective system, both are equally adamant about the importance of correct position and execution.

Obviously swordsmanship includes much more than just the guards. The techniques of a school of will also include attacks, parries, footwork, feints, invitations, and many other aspects of movement as well as a theoretical foundation governing the use of each of these pieces. And just as with the guard, meticulous care must be given to correctly learning each of these actions. When performing a technique, each part of your body should move or remain motionless for a specific reason, leaving nothing to chance. As you gain more experience, revisit your interpretation of the fundamental mechanics of your system. You will find that if your fundamentals are neglected, your body will have a tendency to drift away from their ideal execution. Practicing your technique is an unending process--do not neglect it, as the system you practice was predicated on the correct execution of its actions. Fabris, for example, utilizes the lunge as a primary technique in attacks. If you cannot correctly perform a lunge, then every single technique of Fabris that utilizes a lunge will always remain outside of your repertoire. As a final point, when learning a complex action, always ensure that you correctly execute the fundamental components of that action.

The approach I have outlined appears to be very simple; conceptually, it is. Success is a matter of perseverance and attention to the details, and you will need to be disciplined enough maintain your focus. I am not saying that you only need to practice the fundamentals (what else to practice is beyond the scope of this article). I am saying that practicing the fundamentals must happen in addition to everything else. There are no shortcuts for this, as there is no way to learn and maintain the fundamentals of a system without practicing them. However, once you have learned them, you will have the tools to bring the art of your selected master to life. The correct execution of fundamentals will provide a foundation for all aspects of the practice and execution of your system. You will look like the manual.