He had to train in secret at first, but after a move to Minnesota, Josias Arcadia found a school to practice historical fencing. In an effort to learn more of the German tradition of longsword, Arcadia began his Ram’s Head Fencing and began training with James Riley in the Kunst des Fechtens tradition. Recently, he competed in the Helsinki Longsword Open and has plans to return to next year’s event. Today, Arcadia took some time to talk about his time at the Helsinki Longsword Open, his thoughts on competition, and how lineage and tradition is something to help innovate. This is the first part of a two part interview. Read the second part here.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow: Welcome Josias and thank you for joining us today!
Josias Arcadia: Thank you for having me!
MAYTT: You recently participated in the Helsinki Open. Could you tell us more about that and your experience there?
JA: It was kind of a wild time. Generally speaking, it was only my third trip overseas ever, so I wouldn’t consider myself a super experienced jetsetter of any kind. The first issue to overcome was definitely the jet lag. As a result of that, I don’t feel like I performed as well as I could have. But I had a good time. I would say that the competition itself was quite intense. Apparently, it’s recorded as the third toughest team competition since they started doing them.
MAYTT: Wow.
JA: It was a pretty intense competition. It was wonderful to see all these high-level fencers up close and get to fence some of them in non-competitive matches. That was a lot of fun. It was a wonderful experience. I plan on going again for sure.
MAYTT: Best of luck with your second time. Did you happen to place at all while you were there?
JA: I didn’t place this time, which was a bit disappointing. I have a personal rule that I stick to when I look at my performance in a tournament. I try not to engage in what my coach and I call ‘cope’ or ‘call cope.’ It’s about avoiding coming up with external reasons for why I didn’t perform as well as I thought I should have. I fenced about as well as I could have at the time, considering the circumstances. I have placed in other competitions, mostly regional American ones.
It was a bit of a culture shock, at least in a couple of my bouts. The style of fencing that I do with the specific weapon I use is not one that people are accustomed to seeing or employing thrusts with. What I mean by that is the two-handed longsword. The way a lot of people who practice HEMA conceive of it is as a cutting weapon that happens to thrust. However, the tradition I follow views the long sword as a very thrust-oriented weapon that can also cut. So, my approach, I think, was quite different enough for many judges to not be able to see it initially.
I struggled with that, but once the judges adapted to seeing how I was fencing differently, yet still in a martially valid way, I started seeing more of my hits get recorded and my points acknowledged. It was just a bit of a culture shock. But I believe I learned from it and have a better idea going in for next time.
MAYTT: You touched upon culture shock; were there any differences between European HEMA tournaments and American HEMA tournaments?
JA: A lot of things were the same, especially because before the pandemic, we did have a lot of European fencers come over here and vice versa. So that’s about the last time there was a large amount of cross-pollination between European historical fencing and American historical fencing, in a measurable way, with fencers going across the Atlantic with some frequency. But of course, after the pandemic, that really put a break on things and gave everyone honestly a few years to sort of grow apart again.
As far as American culture goes, even within the US, there are regional subcultures that vary a lot as well. We have the Midwest, the Pacific and Atlantic Coasts, and the Southwest has a little bit of its own thing, but it’s kind of lumped in with the West Coast. Then the South has its own regional differences between the East Coast and the Midwest.
One aspect of culture shock that I experienced is in the Midwest, specifically, we have a pretty strong culture of generally being willing to self-call or self-acknowledge points scored against ourselves or decline points that we don’t feel were of sufficient quality. This tournament was the complete opposite. You were not allowed to make any comment on the quality of your own hit or decline points; it was heavily discouraged to influence the judges in any way. It was just a difference in how we perceive the competitive aspect in general.
When I explained this to some of my friends who were asking me about it, they were wondering why that was. According to the organizers, calling your own hits could be influencing the match because, for instance, in a tournament like this one where there were different point values for different target areas, if I claimed I got hit in my head when it was actually my arm, that would be a lower point value. On the flip side, not acknowledging points because you’re discouraged from doing so had the inverse effect, where people would ignore shots that landed on them because they were encouraged to do so.
On a certain level, it’s more emblematic of the fact that it’s still a very immature endeavor. It’s not a combat sport or martial art that has had a competitive scene for a very long time. We even look at submission grappling or Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, which I also practice and train, and BJJ has been around for a hundred years now. So, it’s had a lot of time to develop, for good and bad, to evolve, and historical fencing, HEMA, just is not there yet.
For me, I’ve actually had a sort of paradigm shift in the value that I place on competitions for myself. I still think that it is important to engage in the competitive scene, but I’m starting to ascribe less personal worth, if you will, to my performance at tournaments. It’s kind of a lot. It’s been a really wild ride for me since we first started exchanging emails, and I would say Helsinki was like a huge moment of growth for myself because of the huge challenge that it was to get over there and compete.
MAYTT: Since you want to go back next year to the Helsinki Open, what are you going to train to do better the next time?
JA: One of the key aspects of my personal journey has been to detach myself from the outcome of competitions, not placing too much importance on it. Surprisingly, this approach has significantly helped my fencing performance. While some people thrive on being emotionally invested, I personally do better when I’m not overly concerned about the outcome. This mindset shift was particularly effective during the Midwinter Armizare Open in Chicago, where I placed third. By focusing on each exchange as its own universe and not overly fixating on the outcome, I found myself fencing more effectively.
Physically, I’ve undergone a significant overhaul in my fencing approach since May of last year. I enlisted a coach for German longsword, or Kunst des Fechtens (KDF), and completely revamped my technique under his guidance. His methodical and consistent coaching style, even conducted mostly online, has been transformative. He’s given me a new language to describe and conceptualize my fencing in a way I never had before.
When I competed in the Helsinki Longsword Open (HLO), I went in with only a partial repertoire, mastering only a few actions. Despite this, I managed to win two bouts convincingly and narrowly missed winning a third with a stellar comeback. Now, I’m focused on expanding my repertoire, particularly actions like thrusts to the opposite side, which will significantly enhance my game.
What I cherished most about HLO was the opportunity to fence non-competitively with some of the best fencers, including highly ranked individuals like Steven Cheney, Kristian Ruokonen, Miro Lahtela, and Mikko Lehto. These encounters provided invaluable learning experiences and further fueled my passion for historical fencing. Overall, my journey from Helsinki to Chicago has been one of growth, both personally and in my martial artistry.
It’s important to provide context regarding the caliber of fencers I had the opportunity to face. All of them have either been or are currently in the top ten in the world rankings. For perspective, my own ranking hovers in the low two hundreds out of approximately 10,000 fencers worldwide. While it’s a respectable position, it’s also humbling in the presence of such elite competitors.
During these encounters, I was able to effectively apply the techniques I’ve been honing under the guidance of my coach. Landing strong, center line thrusts on all of them was a testament to the effectiveness of my training program. It was particularly gratifying to receive direct feedback from Miro Lakkala, who noted that my thrusts had no telegraph, a commendation from one of the best fencers in the world.
The recognition from these seasoned fencers reaffirmed my belief in the efficacy of my training regimen. Their acknowledgment of my centerline control was encouraging, indicating that my efforts are indeed paying off. Moving forward, I remain committed to sticking with my training program, confident that it will continue to elevate my skills in historical fencing.
MAYTT: To receive a compliment from one of the highest-ranking Finnish Fencers to say that; you’re definitely on the right track.
JA: To get that feedback was great. They’re wonderful people. I didn’t go out there to fence and fight them; I went out there to hang out with them. They’re wonderful people and the Helsinki club I went to had top notch humans in it; they were all extremely welcoming and showed me a good time.
MAYTT: That is awesome. Going back to the beginning, how and when did you come to find historical fencing?
JA: My journey into martial arts and historical fencing actually began in a somewhat unconventional way. Growing up in a Jehovah’s Witness household, I wasn’t permitted to engage in martial arts or team sports. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a business card pinned to a truck stop cork board in a small town in Eastern Washington that I found my entry point. The card advertised HEMA lessons, particularly longsword training, and I was immediately intrigued.
Despite the constraints of my upbringing, I began training in secret, navigating the challenges of practicing while still living at home. When my parents eventually discovered my clandestine activities, it resulted in some trouble, and I was forced to quit. However, upon moving to Minnesota, I found a new opportunity to pursue my passion at the Center for Blade Arts, then known as Minnesota Sword Club.
Under the guidance of my first historical fencing teacher, Eric Slider, who was a student of Christian Tobler, I delved deeper into the art. Tobler, renowned for his expertise in German longsword and his translations of historical manuscripts, indirectly became a significant influence on my journey. Through connections with Tobler’s student Jess Finley and acquaintanceship with Tobler himself, my appreciation for the rich tradition of historical fencing grew.
As I continued my training, I found myself drawn more to fencing than to the religious obligations I had grown up with. Eventually, about three years ago [2021], I faced a pivotal moment when repetitive motion from my job as a beer canner led to tendonitis. It was then that I made the decision to start my own school, choosing to embark on a new path rather than continue with the physical toll of repetitive work. Thus, my journey into historical fencing evolved from a clandestine hobby to a passion-driven pursuit, ultimately leading me to establish my own club.
MAYTT: When you started training for a second time in Minnesota, how would you describe the training that you experienced?
JA: Upon moving to Minnesota, I found myself lacking the sense of community I had in my previous location. In the interim, I took it upon myself to delve deeper into studying historical fencing manuals. However, my solo endeavors eventually led me to discover a new club in Minneapolis.
The pedagogy of this club, then and now, has been primarily influenced by Olympic foil and saber fencing, driven by the expertise of the head coach who has produced accomplished fencers in these disciplines. While he did incorporate elements from historical fencing manuals into his teachings, his approach remained rooted in the Olympic framework.
Feeling a desire for something different, I sought a more focused approach centered around the German longsword tradition. The club I initially joined adopted a more generalized approach, blending various traditions within historical fencing, including Italian, German, and Spanish techniques. However, I yearned for a more distinct focus on the medieval German longsword tradition.
As my journey progressed and with the guidance of my coach, my commitment to the German longsword tradition only grew stronger. Our school has now transitioned into a dedicated KDF German longsword fencing school. This shift has allowed us to hone our skills with a clear and unwavering focus, further solidifying our identity within the historical fencing community.
MAYTT: That switch from a generalist approach to a German tradition approach to longsword occurred when you established your own school?
JA: Correct.
MAYTT: To clarify, you established your school and found yourself a coach so that you can hone this specific German longsword tradition for yourself?
JA: It’s fascinating to hear that we share the same coach, David from Sellsword Arts, and that we both receive guidance from James Riley. James Riley’s contributions to truesteeltraining.com have been invaluable resources in our journey through historical fencing. His approach to German longsword is truly remarkable, blending expertise with a deep understanding of historical context.
Attempting to encapsulate the richness of James Riley’s approach without delving into the extensive history of HEMA is a challenging task. Suffice it to say, his methods are a testament to the evolution of historical fencing and its relevance in modern practice. For those interested in exploring further, I highly recommend delving into the resources available on truesteeltraining.com to gain insight into James Riley’s profound contributions to the art of German longsword fencing.
MAYTT: That is interesting. Your coach, James, does he also teach at your school?
JA: He actually lives about six hours away, which makes it challenging for him to teach here regularly. However, he recently conducted a seminar on Sunday, and it was a fantastic experience. During the four-hour session, he covered a lot of material, and we all gained valuable insights. While he isn’t able to teach here regularly due to the distance, he does make an effort to come out and conduct seminars when we invite him or when his schedule allows. Sometimes we also travel to his school for seminars.
For now, I’m the primary teacher at my school. Despite the distance, I receive direct, individualized coaching from him, which I then pass on to my students. It’s a rewarding process of learning and teaching that allows me to continually improve my own skills while also sharing knowledge with others.
MAYTT: You mentioned that you try to have a balance between producing competitive fencers and creating a welcoming environment for those who just want the fence. Could you tell us a little more of how you approach that?
JA: I’ve experienced a significant shift in my personal approach to historical fencing and why I engage in it. I’ve come full circle to realize that while competing is enjoyable, it’s not the sole purpose of my practice. This perspective isn’t uncommon within the historical fencing community, which often sees a divide between those solely focused on competition and those who prioritize other aspects of the art.
Competition, for me, serves as a marker of my current skill level rather than a measure of my worth as a teacher or practitioner. Take, for example, my experience at HLO; while it wasn’t my best performance, I understand that it doesn’t define me or my abilities. Unfortunately, the relatively new status of historical fencing has attracted individuals seeking dominance, leading to some problematic behavior within the community.
In my school, we balance between mildly competitive games aimed at skill development and non-competitive, conversational activities. While competition has its place, it’s crucial to foster an environment where learning and growth take precedence over winning at all costs. This philosophy extends beyond historical fencing; my partner, who practices jiujitsu, has also encountered similar challenges with overly competitive training partners.
This journey has led me to appreciate the value of mastery and approaching training with variable intensity. Rather than every session being focused on high-intensity sparring, I now prioritize addressing the needs of the class and fostering a supportive learning environment. It’s a shift that has enriched my practice and deepened my understanding of historical fencing as both a martial art and a community endeavor.
In our fencing tradition, we adhere to several sets of heuristics, one of which is “sword first.” This principle dictates that when executing a basic action like a thrust, absolutely no part of your body should move before your sword. It’s a fundamental concept that takes considerable effort to integrate into one’s motor patterns. In my school, mastering this skill is paramount, as it distinguishes those who truly understand fencing techniques.
To improve upon such skills, we follow a structured approach consisting of five steps: sequence, intensity, context, flow, and finally, intensity again. Each step is meticulously broken down, and progression is contingent upon achieving a success rate of seventy to ninety percent at each stage. For example, when working on the basic thrust with the “sword first” principle, the sequence begins with standing still and extending the sword, followed by stepping into a lunge, ensuring correct structure throughout. Once proficiency is attained at the sequence level, we advance to increasing speed while maintaining proper form and order. Contextual drills allow us to make informed choices based on the stimuli provided by our training partners. Flow sparring, akin to the concept of flow rolling in jiujitsu, enables us to practice techniques at a conversational intensity, where motion is tethered to our partner’s movements. Finally, we test our skills at full intensity, ensuring that our techniques remain effective even under pressure.
Participating in events like HLO has been instrumental in validating our training methods. It provided an opportunity to test our skills against some of the best practitioners in the world. Through this process, I gained confidence in my ability to execute techniques effectively at every level of our training paradigm. It’s a testament to the efficacy of our approach and reinforces the importance of adherence to fundamental principles in honing our fencing abilities.
MAYTT: There are a lot of concepts or drills that you utilize in your HEMA that sound like they are coming from BJJ. How has your BJJ training complemented your historical fencing experience?
JA: Absolutely, you’ve hit the nail on the head. My coach and I both have backgrounds in jiu jitsu, and this has significantly influenced our approach to KDF German longsword tradition. Within the German longsword tradition, there’s a notable emphasis on wrestling techniques embedded within the fencing manuals. These old masters advised practitioners to incorporate wrestling skills, as they directly translate to fencing. One crucial concept in our tradition is “indes” or “within,” which emphasizes executing actions within both space and time, remaining tethered to our opponent’s movements. Essentially, it’s about timing through tethered motion.
When I think of “indes,” I envision my actions happening within my opponent’s actions, ensuring that I’m not rushing or acting independently. It’s about maintaining sensitivity and staying connected to my opponent’s movements. For instance, if they slow down, I adjust my pace accordingly to ensure that our actions remain synchronized. This approach minimizes the risk of untethered motion, which can be hazardous.
Untethered motion, or actions that are independent and disconnected, is something we strive to avoid in our fencing school. It’s often seen in less skilled practitioners, leading to instances of doubling or getting hit immediately after landing a strike. Personally, I’m proud of my record of minimal doubling in competitions, thanks to my understanding of tethered motion and its application.
Drawing parallels to grappling, the concept of “stickiness” is crucial. Much like in aikido, where practitioners learn to move with their opponent, we aim to maintain a sticky connection in our fencing. We adapt our movements to mirror our opponent’s, neither applying excessive pressure nor absorbing too much. This approach, learned from grappling, underscores the importance of tethered motion in both disciplines, regardless of size or strength differentials.
MAYTT: I can see the correlation of principles and concepts with BJJ and longsword. Do you teach historical wrestling at your club or is it just strictly longsword?
JA: I don’t right now because of the fact that having begun my training in jiu jitsu, I realized how much I don’t know. That will not always remain the case. But only once I have achieved a certain level of experience, probably at the bare minimum with my BJJ blue or purple belt, I will begin to teach wrestling.
This is the first part of a two part interview. Read the second part here.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 