The curved blade of a saber whistles through the air before steel meets steel with a sharp crack. Inside a recreation room at Vineyards Community Park, two fencers retreat, advance and cross swords before breaking apart again, the percussive clang of bladework filling the air. There are no electronic scoring boxes, no buzzing lights, no referees calling points—just an honor system built on acknowledging the defeat rendered by a quick touch. Along one wall, a dozen students wait their turn in crisp white jackets and black mesh masks. When one fencer lands a hit, the opponent stomps his foot and raises his hand. “Touché.”
For two hours each week, the Naples rec center slips far from the world of pickleball courts and golf courses just outside its doors and becomes Côte du Golfe School of Fencing.
Photography by Brian Tietz
traditional fencing school thrives in naples fencer in action
Students travel from as far as Tampa for Côte du Golfe School of Fencing’s beginner and intermediate classes. After mastering the lightweight foil, they often learn classical dueling weapons like the saber (pictured here) before progressing to historical European arms, such as the smallsword (pictured below).
One of about 20 schools in the country that preserve classical fencing, Côte du Golfe teaches swordsmanship as it was practiced in the 19th century—and before—when a blade was a weapon rather than the instrument of an electrified Olympic sport. School founder and instructor Russell Hogg likes to start new students the traditional way—with the foil, a lightweight blade used for training. “It’s very light and fast and precise,” Russell says. “It’s both the easiest and most difficult in many ways. We start there because it’s like learning your scales in music. You learn the components that everybody else needs to use.”
Fencers advance from foils to dueling weapons, such as the épée and saber. Then, when Russell recognizes their skill with the instruments, he may recommend they advance to the historical European weapons that predate classical fencing, like a rapier or smallsword. “We’re always starting from our [fencing] tradition as a foundation,” he says. “Then, we use our knowledge about fencing in general and universal principles to help us understand some of those earlier styles.”
Photography by Brian Tietz
traditional fencing school thrives in naples short sword up close
Russell competed in modern fencing as a teenager in Texas and later moved to New York to train under Maestro de Armas Ramón Martínez, one of the country’s foremost authorities on the niche traditional styles. There, he began his pursuit of master status, which requires proficiency in about a dozen weapons and an exam. In 2011, Russell accepted a faculty position at Florida Gulf Coast University and, soon after, opened Côte du Golfe as a branch of the Martínez Academy of Arms, preserving a teacher-to-student lineage that traces to the 1800s and continuing his own master training. “You’re carrying this piece of history and culture with you, rather than trying to build it from scratch,” Russell says.
On any given Monday, homeschool students share the floor with former executives, healthcare professionals and powerlifters trading rest days for footwork. Some make the weekly trek from Cape Coral after searching for a proper academy. Others come from down the road, drawn by the novelty. What started as a class of three more than a decade ago has evolved into a school with over 50 new students each year. Everyone starts with a four-week course, but many stick around long after. “There’s this crazy intersection of [different] types of people coming in,” Russell says.
The traditional dueling art form often attracts history buffs to the academy. When a student shows an interest during class, Russell explains the origins of various weapons and movements, drawing connections across time. Though he distinguishes the academy’s version of historical fencing from the tangential and increasingly popular Historical European Martial Art, where students learn through studying old manuscripts and textbooks rather than from a master, the two intersect with their appreciation for the martial art. Russell even has students from a HEMA group who periodically travel from Tampa for direct master-to-student training. “Having that tradition keeps that interaction going, it keeps it alive and maintains the essence of the art,” he says.
Photography by Brian Tietz
traditional fencing school thrives in naples russell hogg
Instructor Russell Hogg helms one of about 20 fencing schools in the U.S. that preserve the traditional art form, where each exchange favors an honor system over the modern style’s fast-paced scoring.
At the end of class, Russell steps between a pair of students sparring. “Don’t drop your sword when you attack.” He rotates the gentleman’s forearm and points to the muscles controlling the movement before sending him back into position. By day, he teaches anatomy and biomechanics in FGCU’s Department of Rehabilitation Sciences. In the evening, those same principles become the foundation of swordsmanship. Rows of students settle into an en garde stance while Russell walks the line, nudging a hip here, rotating a knee there, explaining how power begins in the feet rather than the arm.
Russell embraces maestro Martínez’s view of classical fencing as “physical chess,” where every feint invites a calculated response and every decision carries consequences. Judgment is prized as much as speed. “You’re trying to strategize and use your mind to defeat your opponent as well as your body,” he says. This comes full circle when the school attends annual nationwide competitions, where fencers can test their technique and composure under pressure.
The saber meets its opposing blade one last time before the salle d’armes falls silent. The final free assault concludes with a salute, a gesture as old as the practice itself. Students peel off their chamois gloves, and the weapons return to their racks until next Monday, when old and new faces will follow a dance choreographed across centuries.