Choosing the Right Swords

            Unfortunately this often comes down to a never completely resolved conflict of what the director wants vs. what the choreographer wants vs. what the actors want vs. what the props master can squeeze out of the budget.

            There is no right or wrong here; you can justify just about any blade choice so long as the hilt matches the production design and everyone is on the same page as to the requirements of the fight. The fight is the key, so ultimately the fight choreographer has to make the final call. Certain moves are mandated by the specific blade strength, so it doesn’t make sense for the director to ask for big slashing movements and still want to use a very light thin blade. The weight of the blade will determine the speed of the fight and even what moves are possible. Compromises will have to be made.

            Go back to the Weapons for Stage section and read the descriptions of the various blades that are out there for stage combat. Also keep in mind that if the actors have been trained correctly and have good control, even the lighter blades can be used to give the impression of very strong cuts. I’ve even used different blades within the same fight [The Three Musketeers is great for this] and not had any more weapon breakage than in other shows. Different blade widths and lengths can be more interesting for the choreographer and the audience. But ultimately, the blade choice will need to be made by the choreographer.

            Once the fight choreographer has picked the blades, then the director needs to choose the hilts, or at least provide enough guidance on what the look should be for the show and each character. The hilt is the look of the sword, and often a wide choice of blades can be mounted onto a staggering variety of hilt styles. The blade determines the action: the hilt determines the look.

            Now is the time for the props master to take the information provided from the director and choreographer and perhaps the costumer, look at all of the options available and the budget allowed for the show, and to narrow down the choices to something realistic for the production. All of this has to be decided well before the show goes into rehearsal; indeed, before the choreographer begins to write out the fights. Nobody needs the frustration of having to throw out prior work and start creating new choreography from scratch simply because the weapon availability changed during rehearsal.

            The last input will come from the actors. They only get to have one moment of input, and that relates to any injuries or physical limitations they have that would preclude the use of certain moves, and by extension, certain weapons. That’s it. They are not allowed to complain about a hilt being ugly or a sword being too long. Their job is to deal with it.

            Ok, ok, maybe I was being too harsh there. Actors should always be allowed the opportunity at any point in the rehearsal process or even during the performance schedule to bring notice concerning a valid safety concern, and that includes their opinion on their props, their partner, their choreographer, or even their director. After all, it is usually an actor who will first notice a small problem on its way to becoming a major issue. But I must say that nine times out of ten an actor will complain about a prop for the same reason he complains about some aspect of his costume – he isn’t used to it, and is too lazy to try to work with the object first. Far easier to have it changed rather than do his job as an actor.

            As long as we mentioned blade lengths, let’s not get too hung up on precise equality for every combatant. It certainly didn’t happen in Shakespeare’s time, and it provides very little benefit on stage. Many will insist that equal blades mean better control of distance between the actors as they move across the stage, therefore insures a safer fight, but that can only be true if the fighters happen to have the same arm, leg, and torso length. (I actually would like to see shorter actors have the benefit of using a longer blade, but the look is comical so will never happen.)

“How heavy is that sword?”

Perhaps the most common question I used to get, week in and week out. And I usually answered with the weight of the sword, all the while having a nagging feeling that that information isn’t really what the client needs. What the client is asking is actually how heavy does the sword feel, and for that I have three answers.

Weight measures the mass of the object. Put a hammer on a scale and you know the weight. Hold the hammer by the head and you can confirm that.

But when you hold the hammer by the handle, all of a sudden it seems a lot heavier, and after a while your hand will feel the strain. That’s because holding a hammer by the handle requires more effort to keep it from falling to the ground compared to holding it from the head.

A scale will give you the weight of the sword, to be sure. Let’s say it’s a Veneto, one of our lighter swords, outfitted with an epee blade and a cap-nut on the end – no pommel. The total weight of the sword is only 13 ounces.

But the balance point of any sword is not right in your hand. It’s a few inches down on the blade. When you hold a sword, the blade wants to dip toward the floor. Your hand has to grasp the sword a little bit tighter in order for the sword not to fall. Not as much as a hammer, but more so than if you were holding a 13 ounce ball. This apparent weight is described as effort, and for this particular sword the effort is a little over two pounds, 2.2 lbs to be exact.

Sometimes, on that same Veneto, I’ll put a 4 ounce pommel instead of a cap-nut. Total weight of the sword is now 17 ounces. But the balance point has shifted closer to the hand, so the effort in holding the sword is now 1.7 lbs. I’ve increased the weight, but decreased the effort. The sword is 4 ounces heavier, but feels a half pound lighter!

The balance point of any sword is affected by many things: the weight of the pommel, the length of the grip, the shape of the guard, etc. For example, we build two styles of swept hilt rapiers. The Gossamer Swept and the Standard Swept are made of identical components and weigh exactly the same on the scale. But the particular sweep of the steel forming the hand guard shifts the balance point on the swords. So even with the same pommel and same handle length, the Standard Swept requires an effort of 6 lbs, but the Gossamer Swept only 4 ½ lbs.

Let’s go to the other end of the spectrum. The biggest sword I ever had was a five foot Bannockburn. It weighed 6 ½ lbs [ I know. You thought it was going to be a lot more, didn’t you? ] The balance on this behemoth was pretty good, but the effort to hold it was still a bit over 29 lbs. Seems heavy, but consider this: I also used to have short steel maces, less than two feet long and weighed only 2 ½ lbs. But the balance point on a mace is so far away from the hand that the effort on it was almost 33 lbs!

So far we have only been talking about the sword as a static object. But swords are swung, and when they are we compound the weight by adding speed. The faster it moves, the more difficult to stop. And whatever momentum isn’t removed by the actor doing the swinging, his partner will have to do by blocking. The amount of energy that has to be stopped by the partner’s block is force. *

I am sorry to say that in the vast majority of theatres and schools, actors are allowed to use (or, worse, are actually taught) cutting motions with incorrect technique. Swings are coming in way too hot, and their partners are forced to make their blocks in order to stop the incoming swords. I have described earlier on how to cut correctly. It is prudent to take a look at that, and to include daily exercises so that cutting motions are always performed under control. Why? Because I’m not talking about stopping three or four pounds of steel from striking an actor’s arm. When we combine velocity to mass, we get force, and the numbers are shocking.

I want you to read that chart again, because those numbers are not typo’s. When someone grabs even the lightest sword and swings away, it can generate an impact force of thousands of pounds at the impact site. The light epee blade can’t withstand anywhere near that force: it will bend and shatter at half that theoretical maximum. So it might break skin but probably won’t break anyone’s bones. The heavier, stiffer blades are not nearly so self-sacrificing. A rapier can crack a rib: a broadsword can snap a leg like a twig.

Look how the numbers drop when correct technique is used. And if you add correct target placement, that number can drop to nearly zero.

* [Yes, yes, and yes, to all of you who have studied Newtonian physics. I’m taking great liberties here with terms, and decided to call the collision force, or more properly the reduction of momentum by the colloquial “force”. I’m happy that you are aware of the difference, but I didn’t want everyone else to get stuck in the weeds on this. So, yes, of course, I’m doing a disservice to precision in science. But I’m trying to get everyone to stop bashing their weapons!]