Tuesday, July 15, 2003 | 9:20 a.m.
He had her in a chokehold.
In front of 20 students, Paul Steger approached assistant Tiza Garland and wrapped his arm around her neck.
A struggle ensued; Garland elbowed Steger in the ribs, broke free, straddled his hip, then buried her right knee into his stomach.
She knocked the wind out of him or so it seemed.
Now it was the students' turn. Grimacing and paired up, they moved through the steps in slow motion. Grunts and "oomphs" resonated throughout the dance studio. No fighter withheld the expression of "pain."
"They're encouraged to make noise because there's nothing worse than a quiet fight," Jeff Thomason, aka "Ish," explained from the concrete bleachers.
"If you're going to make noise on the stage, you might as well practice here."
Practice they will. As students in the National Stage Combat Workshop, held through July 25 at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, they have three weeks to master their techniques.
The summer workshop, conducted by the Society of American Fight Directors, is a place where punches are thrown past, not through; belly slashes don't draw blood; daggers don't pierce the skin; and falls can actually be somewhat painless.
"It's the choreographed illusion of violence," instructor Michael Chin said during a morning rapier workshop. "It's not dangerous at all if it's done correctly."
Looking down at his elbow brace, a result of too much sword fighting, Chin said, "We get black-and-blue marks. We get sprains. But thank God, in 24 years we've never had a serious accident. We stress safe distance. We stress targets."
Chin understands what happens when an actor is not properly trained for stage combat. While performing several years ago with the Pan Asian Repertory Theatre, he was punched so hard in the jaw that he spun out of his shoes.
"It was during the show," Chin, faculty member at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy in New York City, said. "And I saw stars. You do see stars when you're hit. I didn't know anything about fight choreography. Nor did anybody in the show. So we kind of winged it.
"I think we all have horror stories as to why we got into this business. There's a lot of people out there choreographing combat who are not qualified to do so. You can get hurt. You can die."
Faking it
Actor and stuntman David Boushey founded the Society of American Fight Directors in the 1970s after returning from England where he studied stage combat with the Society of British Fight Directors.
The nonprofit organization is one of several throughout the country that trains the art of stage violence. Its membership exceeds 700 and its national workshop, in its 15th year at UNLV (where Linda McCollum, a theatre department faculty member, is also a SAFD member), is its biggest event.
The workshop draws students from all across the United States. Participants have three weeks to master their fight techniques. At the end, those who pass the skills proficiency test receive a certificate.
Admission exceeds $1,000. But the men, women, directors, students, actors and professors who attend deem it invaluable.
"You can't get paid while you're in the hospital," said Thomason, a head intern at the workshop who first attended five years ago as a student.
"Anytime a slap comes up or someone falls down, you don't think of it as a fight, but it is part of stage combat. Plays are about conflict."
Besides, Thomason said, "Someone almost always ends up getting drunk."
A stuntman in training, Thomason said he's practiced high falls, been set on fire and fallen down staircases. When acting, he said, he wants his fights to look real.
"We want them cringing, saying, 'Ooh that had to hurt.' It's a skill you gotta have. You gotta know how to act, sing, dance, and you gotta know how to fight. That's the reality of being onstage."
Avoiding a tragedy
Unarmed combat classes teach students head bobbles (a proper reaction to head blows), how to throw and block punches, and how to safely beat someone up and deceive the audience. Placing soft tissue on soft tissue -- a knee to the stomach is actually an inner thigh to the stomach -- for example.
At the rapier and broadsword classes, students armed with weapons are taught to lunge, avoid, slash and parry.
Standing amid students in a morning rapier class, instructor Mark Guinn eyed his weapon as a pirate would and said dramatically to the students, "You know what I'm after."
Still animated, he sliced the air with his rapier, creating a "woosh" sound.
"That's what I'm after," Guinn said. "It's the sound."
An associate professor of theater at Louisiana Tech University, Guinn doesn't hide his enthusiasm for the art of sword fighting.
"There was a time when the blade reigned supreme in our world," Guinn said. "It was a time when honor was of upmost importance."
That time has long passed. But as Chin explains, "They will forever do 'Romeo and Juliet,' 'Hamlet,' 'MacBeth.' Those are the big fight plays. Those are the biggies."
So for Shakespeare thespians, knowing the best way to approach a "stomach slash, right to left, with dagger on the pass forward" can be helpful.
From the director
Drew Fracher, a certified Fight Master with the Society of American Fight Directors, says that when auditioning for productions he's directing, he looks for actors who already know stage combat.
"The idea is to reduce the chance of injury to the barest minimum," Fracher said. "I'm totally looking for people who have skills."
Even high school productions have proved faulty. Fracher once served as an expert witness in a case in which a high school was putting on "The Complete Works of Skaespear (Abridged)."
One of the actors pushed another too hard onstage. The actor fell on an actress' head, causing permanent brain damage.
"Some of the worst incidents occur during fight scenes," Fracher said. "It could be something as simple as a slap or a fall.
"Sometimes people treat their partner as a prop instead of a human being. When you're working live theater, you're not making enough money to get punched in the head."
Got game
In her seven years of studying stage combat, Jackie Blakeny says she's been "stabbed," "punched," "slapped" and "sliced."
Blakeny came to the workshop from Houston, where she is studying stage combat with an SAFD Fight Master. Having studied with the SAFD, she said, gives her an extra edge in the field.
But, she added, "As far as working with swords, there are not going to be a lot of roles for women."
So Blakeny plans to incorporate her skills into teaching.
Many workshop instructors work at universities or with regional theater companies. Some became associated with the organization as actors trying to hone their skills.
Paul Steger became involved when he was a street mime working in working New Orleans and New York, and wanted to learn pratfalls.
"I had to learn how to land without breaking an elbow, bruise my butt or hurt my head," said Steger, who has studied with legendary mime Marcel Marceau. "That's how it all started."
Steger works as an actor, director and choreographer, and is a professor at Florida State University. He is also the guy tackling the runaway Jetta in a recent Volkswagen commercial.
Regarding stage combat, Steger said, "I like the physical discipline of it, the balance of it, just making it look beautiful. It makes people up the ante."
"It used to be a slap, a person slaps a person by sticking their hand out and slapping their hand.
Now, he said, "They have to keep their head together. It's very focused work."
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