Michael Sanders first began longsword almost half a decade ago and wanted to find something he could train during the summer months, without dying inside the sparring gear. He stumbled on Bartitsu, a Victorian-era martial art blending self-defense, striking, and grappling techniques, and has yet to look back. Sanders sat down to share his insights on the historical roots of Bartitsu, its defensive mindset, and how its principles continue to resonate in modern martial arts practice.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow: Welcome Michael! Thank you for joining us today!
Michael Sanders: Thank you for having me!
MAYTT: What drew you to Bartitsu and what about the system continues to motivate you to train?
MS: Well, when I look at Bartitsu, one of the things that really drew me to it was its history, almost like one of the first mixed martial arts. I’m also a historical fencer, so one of the things we strive to do is examine past systems and try to reconstruct them as best we can.
I’m definitely not one of the world’s greats when it comes to longsword or medieval weapons, but a lot of my martial arts experience has been in unarmed combat. So I took a look at Bartitsu, at the various books and texts available, and eventually settled on a modern reconstruction by Tommy Joe Moore from the United Kingdom. He’s one of the people who started to rebuild the system and tried to modernize it, to make it less “old-timey” and more contemporary and effective. I just fell in love with it. I thought the martial art still held a lot of validity, but that validity was buried under outdated beliefs about how fights typically unfold. That’s part of why I keep coming back to Bartitsu over and over again. You look at a technique, like the way you hold your hands in pugilism, and then you start to discover the reasons behind it. You begin to understand why that particular hand position was effective. And suddenly, you get this little jolt of realization: “Oh, I get it. I totally get it.” That’s why I keep coming back to it. It’s a fascinating martial art.
MAYTT: There are a few points I would like to branch off of that. Chronologically, you started historical fencing before getting into Bartitsu, correct?
MS: Yes, I started historical fencing about four and a half to five years ago. Honestly, it all began because I was looking for something I could do during the summer months. For those who don’t know, historical fencing gear is heavily padded, very warm, and doesn’t breathe well. So training in August, when the temperatures are brutal, is extremely unpleasant. As I started exploring other options, I came across something that required lighter gear, which really appealed to me. I began working on some things with a few of the other students, and we quickly realized how fun and enjoyable it was. We were all like, “This is great; this is really something we enjoy doing.”
MAYTT: When you first got into Bartitsu and looking through the manuals from Tommy Joe Moore, you mentioned he had more of a modern approach. Can you give an example of how he modernized Bartitsu while keeping the historicity of the system?
MS: Oh, sure! One of the examples I was thinking about last night relates to how Bartitsu was developed during the Victorian era. A lot of older martial arts concepts are still ingrained in it. If you read something by someone like Jigoro Kano, for example, in early judo writings, you’ll notice that the approach isn’t always as efficient as how we might do things today. That’s because modern martial arts have been tested and refined, often over the course of a hundred years or more.
For instance, one thing they teach in the canonical Bartitsu texts – the ones written by Barton-Wright himself – is this really strange way of kicking. The best way I can describe it is like a cartoonish hoedown dance: your arms start coiled and held to the side, and then as you kick, you hurl your arms in a circular motion to follow the direction of your leg. It looks odd, and to be honest, I don’t see much utility in that in the year 2025. That’s one of the things Tommy Joe Moore examined. He looked at that and said, “Yeah, that’s not going to work.” So, he drew from more modern savate, which uses a proper chambering system for kicks; it’s just much more effective. You don’t need to do that weird arm motion. And that’s just one example. There are many throughout the original Bartitsu texts. For instance, there’s no mention of jabs in the canonical material. But Tommy is an amateur boxer, and he was like, “No way – I’m putting jabs in.” I feel the same. If I’m going to fight someone, I’m going to jab. You just can’t take that out of me.
That’s part of my outlook, or you could say my lineage, when it comes to Bartitsu. It’s like, yes, absolutely jab. Don’t forget them.
MAYTT: I have talked to a number of historical fencers, mentioning the feeling of how much outside materials do they put into the manuals. How true is that within the Bartitsu community?
MS: Sure. When I think about Bartitsu and about instructing others in it, one of the things that often comes to mind is the unique nature of practicing what is, if not a dead art, then certainly a nearly practitioner-less one. Sometimes it feels like you’re working inside a bubble, where your own interpretations are what drive everything forward. Because I also do historical fencing, and most of my students are historical fencers as well, we really value pressure testing. I think that makes a huge difference. If you’re examining a technique from different angles but never pressure test it, you risk ending up with something like the later Bartitsu manuals written by Barton-Wright’s students. Those authors understood business, but they didn’t seem as serious or rigorous as he was. As a result, some of their material became very wacky – like, truly strange stuff. So for us, maintaining a sense of lineage means trying to stay as true as we can to what’s written in the original texts. At the same time, if something doesn’t pass muster under pressure, we’re willing to discard it or find another, more functional approach.
MAYTT: When you say, “Look for another way around,” do you ultimately keep the technique in the curriculum, or do you find a different way of applying the same technique?
MS: Yeah, I mean, basically, that is what we do. I don’t like to completely cut anything out, I prefer to leave it in, but with an asterisk. So, for instance, if we’re teaching a pugilistic technique called the chopper, which is essentially a short backfist with the knuckles. There’s a lot of material out there from different authors about how that punch should be used. The way we approach it is almost like a punch add-on. You jab in, and if your opponent blocks and their guard is just a little off, you shoot your arm forward in a sort of half-circle and rake their face with your knuckles. From there, you can either build off the punch or retreat. That’s one of our interpretations of what the move is meant to be. I’ve seen other interpretations where people say, “No, no, it’s more like a fencing blow, like a saber strike.” In that version, you approach with your elbow high and throw the blow over their guard. But for me, that doesn’t work. We’ve tried it in sparring, and you just end up getting punched in the face. So for us, my version of the technique exposes you less. That’s what I feel, and that’s what we use.
MAYTT: I was conducting a little research to get more acquainted with Bartitsu, the video had three sections: cane fighting, pugilism which also mixed with grappling, and savate. Are there any other sections of the system or are those the three main areas of training?
MS: There are several foundational arts that make up Bartitsu. I don’t think Barton-Wright, the man who created the system, fully understood the differences between many of the martial arts he encountered during his time in Japan. However, he clearly didn’t feel confident enough to teach them himself, which is why he brought in practitioners from Japan to teach their respective arts at his schools. This, in fact, was part of what eventually bankrupted him. The foundational arts of Bartitsu include English pugilism, which incorporates not just the formal techniques, but also the rough and dirty aspects of prizefighting, which was a brutal affair in those days. Then there’s judo, along with elements of jujitsu. Bartitsu also draws from savate, which is French kickboxing, and la canne, or French cane fighting. There are a few other hodgepodge elements in the mix, but I would say the three main pillars of Bartitsu are judo, pugilism, and savate. Everything else in the system is built on top of those core disciplines.
MAYTT: What does your usual Bartitsu class look like?
MS: The way we normally run things is by breaking classes into two different types, which I’ve found to be more effective. When I was training, back when I used to train at a gym called Madama Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, it was very much a mixed martial arts environment. We’d have separate days dedicated to striking, jujitsu, or wrestling. But in my current situation, we don’t meet multiple times a week, so I face the challenge of compressing instruction into maybe three hours of class time.
To make the most of it, I divide classes into two types:
1. Technique Classes:
These focus on the fundamentals: how to throw a kick, how to throw a punch, and the methods behind defending yourself. We talk about the reasoning behind techniques too, like why we chamber kicks a certain way. These classes are more of an intellectual exercise. There’s light drilling, but the goal is to present a technique and let students understand it organically.
2. Sparring Classes:
These are more physically intense. We do lots of drills, movement work, and pad work, usually with Muay Thai pads. We’ve been looking for a suitable floor to practice throws, because right now we’re using a weightlifter’s mat over concrete, and obviously I don’t want anyone getting hurt. I take the same approach in sparring-focused classes regardless of the art, whether it’s striking or something like judo. For example, if we’re doing judo, I might focus on just three techniques in a session. Then in the sparring class, we work on how to start blending those techniques together.
Take o soto gari, the back heel throw. It’s tricky for a beginner to walk into class and be told, “Here’s a technique, but it only works if the person is ready to fall.” That sounds insane, right? That’s why splitting the classes makes sense. In a technique session, I can take the time to explain things like kuzushi, the off-balancing. If someone is standing firmly and I try to throw them, it’s just my brute strength against theirs, and I might not be stronger. But if they’re already moving in the direction I want, or their weight is balanced entirely on one leg, suddenly I’m far stronger than they are, and the throw becomes easy. So that’s basically how we structure the two types of classes.
MAYTT: How do you approach the sparring aspect of the class? Do you gear up like Krav Maga or is it a bit more low-gear?
MS: It’s a bit more low-key than that. I’m not a big believer in super hard, full-contact sparring. We all have day jobs, and honestly, I probably have a touch of CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy). I’ve been knocked unconscious in sparring classes before – not with our group, but in other martial arts – and it’s not fun. So instead of exposing people to that kind of risk, I take a much lighter approach. You’ll still be using the techniques and sparring with each other, but we try our best not to put power behind the throws. We use larger gloves to add some extra padding, but really, the drills are designed to help instill the same instincts you’d develop through sparring, just in a safer way. And those drills do a pretty good job of achieving that. So that’s the general approach we take to sparring classes, at least from my perspective.
MAYTT: If you were to speak to someone who didn’t know what Bartitsu was at all, how would you describe the system to them?
MS: I like to start with a lot of the historical tidbits about Bartitsu, because I think they’re incredibly interesting. Just consider the historical fact of this Englishman working for his father’s company who travels to Japan in the 1800s. He sees people practicing these martial arts and thinks, “What is this?” I find that such a compelling story. Victorian England, especially London, was a fantastically dangerous place. From what I’ve heard, and based on some of my research, street crime in London at the time was even more dangerous than 1990s Detroit, which is saying something. It was a very rough-and-tumble environment.
So I like to start by showing students the absolute basics, things that might seem silly at first but have real value. Everyone’s seen the “old-timey” boxer stance with the circling fists: “Put ’em up! Put ’em up!” But when I explain why they stood like that, it really clicks for people. They didn’t just hold their fists that way for show. For example, if your livelihood depends on fighting with your hands and you injure them, you’re not eating. That’s why, in old-school pugilism, the fists were often supinated, palm-up. When you punch with your fist ending palm-up or vertical rather than horizontal, you’re actually protecting your knuckles, especially that first set of knuckles, from being broken.
Those little historical insights tend to stick with people. You’ll see it in their reactions, some just brush it off, but others light up and say, “Oh, really? Tell me more!” That’s usually how I approach teaching: using those compelling details to draw people in. And honestly, you can kind of tell who’s going to be a Bartitsu student and who isn’t, based on how they respond to that kind of thing.
MAYTT: That is cool how you wrap in the history of the system! In your opinion, what makes Bartitsu unique compared to other systems?
MS: I think Bartitsu’s uniqueness lies in the fact that it’s one of the clearest martial arts I’ve found that is utterly dedicated to defense, specifically, self-defense. In many martial arts, you’re told that certain techniques are for defending against attacks, but the art itself is still fundamentally structured around combat and competition. Bartitsu, on the other hand, was built from the ground up with personal defense as its core purpose. Right from the beginning, Barton-Wright, the founder, laid out principles that reflected this focus. One of his founding tenets was, “Walk in the middle of the road.” And when you think about that in the context of Victorian England, a time and place where street crime was rampant, it makes perfect sense. If you were walking too close to the alleyways, someone could drag you in. Walking in the middle of the road gave you better awareness and control of your surroundings.
That mindset – caution, awareness, and avoidance – permeates the entire system. Don’t take unnecessary risks. Trust your instincts. If a situation feels wrong, don’t engage. When you read his early writings, especially in contrast to modern interpretations, you can tell that Barton-Wright put a great deal of thought and care into what he included in the art. Yes, he was a Victorian Englishman and a product of his time, but even so, he built a system that focused deeply on protecting the practitioner against stronger, more aggressive antagonists. In modern martial arts, that kind of care, especially outside the physical techniques, is often missing. Rarely do you encounter advice like, “Walk in the middle of the road.” That level of psychological and situational awareness just isn’t emphasized anymore. That’s what I find so compelling about Bartitsu.
Personally, one of my fears is having something I say or do posted on Bullshido. So I do my best to expose myself fully to the arts I’m studying and sharing. I’m a lifelong martial artist, though I don’t hold any black belts. The arts I’ve studied most seriously are either beltless systems or more informal ones. I grew up in New Jersey, which is kind of a rough and tumble place. I’ve been in some street altercations. But I try to present each martial art I work with in the best and most respectful light I can. That’s why, when I teach something like jujitsu, I’ll go and take a month or more of classes from people who really know the art before I try teaching even a basic module. I want my students to get an authentic sense of that system, not just a set of techniques I picked up from a book. Reading about a throw and actually understanding everything behind it are two completely different things.
A lot of modern martial arts, in my experience, don’t really break down what defense truly means. Jujitsu is maybe the one exception; it takes the time to explain how to stay safe in dangerous situations. But most arts don’t emphasize that enough. I found it fascinating that right at the very beginning of Barton-Wright’s writing, he says things like, “Trust your instincts,” and “If a situation looks unsafe, don’t walk into it.” That kind of mindset is rare. Many traditional or modern martial arts take a bravado-filled approach – “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine if you just use Muay Thai,” or “Krav Maga will handle it.” And I get that to some extent; confidence is important. But if you say your martial art is for self-defense, then you have to practice what you preach. Staying safe without fighting should be a core principle. Most of my instructors said that, but almost none of them ever explained how to do it in a real, structured way. Bartitsu does. It builds that idea into the system from the very first step.
MAYTT: Do you feel that emphasis on total self-preservation as opposed to other martial arts advertising the secret weapon is one of the reasons why the modern revival of Bartitsu is not as popular as other martial arts?
MS: I’m not sure – maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. I think it really comes down to having a certain mindset if you want to practice Bartitsu. You have to be interested in the historical aspect, or maybe really into period finery, you know what I mean? It’s one of those martial arts where it’s tough to find a lot of primary sources to teach from. For me, I’m kind of an internet busybody. When I first got into modern Bartitsu, I emailed Tommy Joe Moore and asked what his classes were like and what he taught. He basically told me, “Just subscribe to my channel, mate. That’s how I teach.” So a lot of this art hasn’t had a big push to spread everywhere, because honestly, I’m not sure it would work that well on a large scale. It’s just a very strange martial art.
I think most people’s love for Bartitsu really develops after they’ve practiced it for a while, when things start to click and they begin to understand the details. Then they get hooked. But it doesn’t have the curb appeal of arts like jujitsu or others. You’re not going to say, “Oh yeah, the British Army does Bartitsu,” that would be ridiculous. And you’re not going to hear, “The last UFC light heavyweight champion does Bartitsu.” That just isn’t going to happen. So if you want to teach Bartitsu, you really have to find the right time, place, and people. But once you gather a group of those people, they usually love it. When I go to HEMA events, I often find people who remember chatting with me about Bartitsu, sometimes even a year later, and come back with more questions.
I don’t think Bartitsu will ever be as popular as many other martial arts that came before it. But there’s definitely an enthusiasm among its practitioners – maybe not loyalty, but a passionate interest – that really sets us apart. We are so into this niche stuff, you know what I mean?
MAYTT: Many martial artists that I have spoken to mention that their chosen empty-hand martial art has complemented their weapons-based martial art. Have you seen something similar to that in in your experience with historical fencing, and Bartitsu, or the or the other way around?
MS: Yes, one of the things Bartitsu has really helped me with is my footwork and range awareness. Knowing your range is critical in fencing, it’s the high art. Being aware of where you are and where your opponent’s blade is makes all the difference. In Bartitsu, finding and controlling range is also very important. Using some of those techniques, I often find myself thinking during fencing, “Oh, I could hit them with a low foot kick,” or “I should be able to stab them.” But I think the biggest benefit is in grappling and grips. Most fencers will just essentially bear hug or clinch, but there are many sneaky things you can do with jujitsu and judo to prime your opponent into a bad position during a grapple. That definitely helps directly.
MAYTT: Other historical fencers mentioned that the longsword system is the basis for many other historical fencing systems. Being a longsword fencer, did that prime you to better pick up things in Bartitsu?
MS: I don’t know that I could ever teach a Bartitsu class and say, “Now let’s grab our longswords,” you know what I mean? I think the footwork is the most important part. Victorian fencing footwork was very sport-oriented and fancy. The footwork in pugilism, however, is much closer to longsword footwork – it’s a balanced, wider stance with careful movement into measure. With Bartitsu, that footwork definitely transfers directly. But now that I’m thinking about it, a lot of the hand movements in pugilism and grappling, different grips and positions, can shed light on some of the stranger longsword techniques. For example, knowing when to hold your hands supinated or pronated.
Earlier, I mentioned the chopper technique in Bartitsu, and you could probably use that to drill a molinet, like a whip cut from a saber or something similar. So maybe that’s something I need to look into more deeply. Our bodies all move in similar ways, so there’s probably a lot of crossover if you start looking for it between armed martial arts like fencing and empty-hand systems. It involves a lot of time spent in front of mirrors doing weird stuff and then checking in with yourself – “Am I okay?”
MAYTT: I never thought that I would be looking myself in mirrors so often in martial arts.
MS: It’s crazy. One of the things I remember from when I was a kid, taking my first karate class, was wondering, “Why are there mirrors?” But it’s true; you have to watch yourself. You need to see if your mechanics are sound. Sometimes you notice it right away, and other times you don’t see the issue until someone else points it out, like, “No, no, you’re dropping your arms or chicken-winging whenever you kick.” So yeah, it might seem vain, but it’s really just for martial arts.
MAYTT: Who do you feel has been crucial in the system’s revival and who do you feel has been influential in maintaining and dissembling the systems here in the United States.
MS: In the United States, Bartitsu has this very bubbly, niche feeling. I don’t really make YouTube videos or anything like that – maybe I should – because a lot of what I see online about Bartitsu can be frustrating. For example, the whole chopper analogy I mentioned came from watching a YouTube video where I was screaming, “That’s not right! That will never work!”
For me, Tommy Joe Moore’s YouTube channel is pretty much the main source I follow, but he’s in the UK. I’m kind of this separate, weird branch off his interpretations of the original texts. I also have my own interpretations that I use in my teaching. So I’m like a different animal, maybe from the same genus, but definitely distinct.
In my classes, I really rely on some people. We have a gentleman who’s into Muay Thai kickboxing and has sparred amateur bouts. Before class, I’ll ask him, “Hey, do you mind drilling this with me? I want your input,” because he’s a really good striker. Similarly, if I want to focus on grappling lessons, I have another guy who wrestled in college, and I’ll say, “Mind if I run some stuff by you?” It’s a very collaborative effort to build this practice, and that’s one of the things I really like about it. I don’t want that to change much, having people add their own interpretations and help rebuild this martial art is important. That said, there’s still a lot of work to be done. New Bartitsu content is really rare unless you’re actively looking for it. Every now and then, something will pop up on a larger history channel or something similar, and I’m like, “Huh, that’s weird. Why?”
MAYTT: What do you think the future of the systems is going to be in, say, the next ten to fifteen years?
MS: Unless different approaches are taken, I think Bartitsu will largely remain the same – a niche practice, probably most popular in HEMA clubs and similar groups. What would really help a lot is a formalization process, where someone takes a serious look and says, “These are the core things you should be teaching if you want to start teaching Bartitsu.” I think that would go a long way.
Bartitsu is still an incomplete martial art. It doesn’t cover much ground grappling-wise, and I would love to add catch wrestling into it; that would be super cool. If that kind of work were done, and more effort made to bring Bartitsu out of this niche historical fencer’s corner, I really do think it has legs. I don’t know if you’ll ever see Bartitsu studios popping up in strip malls, but it definitely could be an option for someone who wants to keep themselves safe and train their street smarts. I think Bartitsu can really help with that. I’m not sure if Bartitsu will mutate into something different, take on a new shape, or just get absorbed into another system. But as they say, “there’s gold in them hills.” There’s a lot of very useful stuff in these old writings, and maybe bringing those out more could help with martial arts growth and practice.
MAYTT: Adding catch-can wrestling into Bartitsu would make the system more complete, however would it still be considered Bartitsu?
MS: That’s where it gets tricky. If you look at the canonical text, the Bartitsu that’s practiced in modern times is quite different. It uses more modern approaches to bring the art into the current age and look at it with a modern eye. I think if you stay true to the lineage, not slavishly, of course, but if you stay true to the lineage and the tenets laid down in the canonical materials, like “walk in the middle of the road,” “understand your opponent’s balance,” and “always seek to disrupt your opponent’s balance while maximizing your own,” then I think that’s a step in the right direction.
I’m sure many people look at pugilism and just decide to teach boxing, and that’s kind of what happened to pugilism. But it’s a tricky question. I often think about something a saber instructor named Russ Mitchell talks about, the lineage of martial arts and how learning a system and its techniques changes that system. Your lineage becomes a living thing. The people you teach and the instruction you’ve had fundamentally change the martial art over time. These changes become more apparent the farther you get from the original practice. That happened back in the old days too. There are so many different schools of karate, and sometimes the differences between them are very slight, and sometimes they’re huge, to the point where one school says, “Oh, we don’t kick,” and you’re like, “What?” I’ve always been more of a fan of systems over techniques. The Bartitsu system teaches you why we approach our martial art this way. It’s part of the system. If you start adding techniques, that’s how you dilute it and start forming something new. Like if someone says, “I’ve added a spinning back kick to Bartitsu,” well, that’s not really in there, but okay, if that’s what you do.
So yeah, it’s a tricky question: does every practice, once formalized and put down, change enough to become a new branch? Does the lineage continue on in your students as, say, “Blob Bartitsu?” I don’t think I’d be too upset by that. Regional differences could be cool, as long as the tenets of the art remain the same, it could give it some regional flavor. But if someone comes in and says, “I do Bartitsu,” and they fight like an MMA fighter, then they’ve probably added too many techniques and made their own thing at that point.
MAYTT: It seems you want Bartitsu to essentially apply its principles to different systems, like how it would address a catch-can wrestler. It would be the same principles, but the techniques would be modified.
MS: Okay, so Bartitsu, being primarily a self-defense art, usually assumes your opponent is unskilled. There’s typically a skill gap where you come out on top. So adapting it to other martial arts is tricky. For example, if you practice pugilism as it’s laid down, your legs are very vulnerable to takedowns. That’s why MMA fighters often crouch low, to make their legs smaller targets and harder to take down.
It’s difficult to address this, but maybe the system could include canonical responses, like how to defend against a wrestler who rushes in to grapple, or how to handle someone who prefers to keep distance and outbox you. I think those responses exist in theory, but I wouldn’t specifically teach, “Here’s how to defend against a catch wrestler’s moves.” Instead, the system should have those answers built in. One thing I’ve noticed with martial arts is that you often do better when facing a style similar to your own, because you know its weaknesses – you understand how the body moves in those situations and can anticipate responses.
To sum up, with Bartitsu, you’re shown the ins and outs of the various techniques that make up the system. By becoming familiar with those, you learn how to shut them down. Against an unskilled opponent or someone using a different style, your defensive instincts kick in, and you shift into more of a defensive game. Like, if someone is doing pugilism, and they stand upright, you might target their legs because they’re vulnerable.
I don’t know if that all makes sense; it made more sense in my head before it started to churn!
MAYTT: You train the system, understand it, and when something else comes around that is unfamiliar, you implement the principles: do not take risks, use your instincts, survive…
MS: Yeah, you’re an aikido practitioner, right?
MAYTT: Yes.
MS: You know, when you’re doing randori against someone in aikido, you kind of know how they’re going to enter or what they’re trying to accomplish when they go for a move. So I think it’s similar with other arts; you can often read their intentions from their stance, like, “They’re going to try to wrestle here.” But if you’re facing someone practicing a different martial art, then, just like you said, you have to be cautious. You engage your brain, try to outthink what’s happening, and apply the techniques you’ve been taught, probably in a more panicked way, but you do what you can.
MAYTT: I get it now. Since we are on this topic, how do you communicate ways in which Bartitsu addresses the modern needs within the martial arts community?
MS: One of the things Bartitsu is really good at is promoting a defensive mindset. It’s about making a conscious decision – not just walking blindly into a situation, but taking a moment to think, “This feels weird,” or “This seems risky. Maybe I shouldn’t do this.” That kind of awareness is something humans often ignore. Sometimes people even say, “You shouldn’t be like that; you should trust everyone.” But I think a lot of modern martial arts teach you the techniques without teaching the mindset. Bartitsu stands out because it tries to teach you the mindset to have before, during, and after a fight. Just by practicing, you learn to assess situations, weigh your options mentally, and make the best tactical decision possible. I find that really unique, at least from my experience.
MAYTT: Thank you for that. Is there anything that you would like to add or expand on that you feel that we didn’t have a chance to get to?
MS: It’s a complicated subject, but I really do think there’s a lot of value in an older system like this, if you’re willing to dig in and truly engage with the martial art. That’s what I find so fascinating about Bartitsu: the instruction is very light, and much of the sorting and figuring things out happens on your own. A lot of people discover what works best for them, even if it’s not immediately obvious. I love that part of the system, that self-taught, exploratory approach. That’s also a question I have when I think about formalizing the art: will that aspect go away? Probably a little bit. So preserving what I love about Bartitsu and passing that experience on to others is something I care deeply about. Honestly, that’s probably why I haven’t pushed harder to get the word out or do more with it.
MAYTT: This was a great conversation!
MS: It was a pleasure!
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 