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SW: What provides you with the biggest challenges? Why and what are they, regarding both safety and performance?

RR: Regarding safety, it’s all a challenge. Every time that I step on stage and raise a sword above my head – tip in my mouth ready to go down my throat – it’s a challenge. It’s an act of extreme mindfulness, and it’s tempting to let the mind wander. It absolutely can not, and it’s sometimes challenging.

It’s also tempting to continually give the audience more and more. It’s not necessary. The overriding point I think that I’ve driven home is that it’s not about the stunt, but the performance. But when you do these acts day in and day out, you sometimes become a bit jaded about the stunts – it becomes easy to forget that they are less important than how you present them. At that point, the stunt becomes old and tired and you begin feeling as if you should make it just a little more dangerous, for the crowd. When you step back and reassess, you realize that it’s not for the crowd at all – they are as happy as can be – it’s for the performer, and for all the wrong reasons. I often push the envelope in my show, but continually remind myself to step back and question why exactly I’m doing so. If I can’t achieve that objective witness state, or if I realize that I’m doing it only for me (and for all the wrong reasons), then I’ll tone things down.

We can continue along this theme into the performance challenges as well, for there is always the question of why I’m doing it. You bet I do it for me!

But, for me, I also want to have a good show, and a good show depends not only on how I feel about it, but most importantly how it is received.

Success on the stage is defined by many variables, and which ones are most important to me may shift slightly day-to-day, depending upon my mood. But there is one overriding difference between a stage performance and a static work of art – it’s interactive of course. My theater shows tend to reach a middle ground between static work and interactive performance. Some people may not like Rembrandt, that is, he may not appeal to them personally due to style or interest. But none would dispute the greatness of his art, even if they don’t personally care for it. I’ve intentionally created some great, pseudo-static pieces that may not be liked for the same reasons, but none would dispute that it’s good art, and those stage pieces are not necessarily about how they are “received”, as the composition of the audience changes (though truth be told, that’s why I do those pieces in the theater – the crowd is already mostly in my camp). But the non-static performance pieces, the pieces that live and breath and find their life in the interplay between audience and performer – which is the majority of my theater work and the entirety of every other show that I present – finds its success in the response of the crowd. One of the largest challenges, but also most interesting and engaging challenges, is learning how to push and pull, tweak, change and subtly (or overtly!) change the show entirely on-the-fly to meet the demands of an audience. Challenging, yes, but extremely rewarding as well.

SW: You mention that sword swallowing, out of all the acts you do, defines you. Why do you feel that way?

RR: I said that it’s arguably my signature act. I’m defining it as I explore its presentational possibilities!

Seriously though, all humorous nit-picking aside, I do have a very special affinity and relationship with sword swallowing.

Sword swallowing is the epitome of extreme acts. It’s difficult, dangerous and practiced by very few. I am very proud to be among the small number who present this feat.

I’ve spent years perfecting this art, and have endured countless hours of physical discomfort and inner exploration – both physical and spiritual – to be able to present this. To say that I have an intimate connection with the blades that I swallow is an understatement. They are the implements by which I risk my life every time I perform, and I have a profound respect for them.

On the surface, sword swallowing is a grotesque art. It’s a horrific display that makes people want to look away while simultaneously feeling compelled to watch. Some go so far as to question the authenticity of it, to allay their own discomfort with the thought of its possibility. It is a feat which puts us all, performer and audience alike, face-to-face with our deepest, most profound fear. The blade pushes into the unknown, past and in some cases against the very engine of life – our heart. Its effects on this central organ are unknown. Can the performer safely negotiate his way past the obstacles of life – and what a curious way to put it – , or will he rupture and destroy the delicate membrane which separates life and death? Symbolically, it pierces the veil of our unknown inner self, forcing us to confront that which we like to keep buried, hidden and forgotten inside.

It is this fear which pushes me to explore the presentational aspects of the art. Each time I perform this dangerous feat, I am myself placed squarely in front of my fear – and if a performer tells you that he doesn’t experience it, then he should not be performing it. It is a sobering experience, and profound in its simplicity.

My decidedly new and innovative presentations of the art are my attempt to explore, interpret and share with my audience the deepest, most universal thoughts, feelings and concerns that we all face. But more than exploring only the dark, disturbing side, I attempt to bring to the fore the empowering aspects of the art. I take this concept of fear that is at the heart of the art form – which is at the heart of so much – and show how it can be transformed, folded-in upon itself into the whole gamut of emotions and experiences – from love to hate, war to peace, humor to the utmost of seriousness.

When I swallow a sword, I’m not performing a stunt, I’m interpreting life.

So perhaps it’s my signature act because the entirety of my performance, of my life and our lives, is being summed up in one simple, double-edged moment of rapture.

SW: You said earlier that sword swallowing was not easy or pleasant to learn, but you pursued it anyway. I think that I can now see why you did.

You have found a lot more in it than the idea of simply swallowing a sword.

RR: Exactly. It’s a powerful metaphor for a lot in life, and it is this that I like to explore. Even more than that, executing an act of such danger with grace and beauty, transforming it into something entirely unlike the simply grotesque forms that it usually takes on, forces me into a state of moving meditation. I face an untold number of fears while performing these routines, the least of which, ironically enough, is the swallowing of the sword.

It’s a true exercise in letting go and simply being in the moment.

I should mention that, though I talk about lifting the art out of the “simply grotesque”, my presentations are not all “happy and carefree” either. By no means! In fact, they are all eerily sinister in their beauty. I suspect that they will never shake that feeling and the call back to grotesque – that bizarre undercurrent – but that’s just because of my personality, not because it’s impossible.

SW: Let’s talk about sword swallowing specifics. You mention that there are not that many people performing as sword swallowers today. Realistically, how many are there?

RR: I typically say that there are less than fifty people performing as sword swallowers in the entire world, but the truth is that after the last official count – performed by the Sword Swallowers’ Association International – there is actually fewer than forty people – in the entire world!

The roster of living sword swallowers hovers around seventy to seventy five worldwide, but that includes very old-time sideshow performers who can perform the feat but are retired, as well as others who have done it but due to unfortunate accidents or other health concerns have stopped actively performing it.

Even so, seventy five worldwide is an exceptionally small number, but less than forty of us are actively performing the feat today.

SW: That’s an amazingly small number!

RR: It is, but it makes getting together easy.

SW: Getting back into the specifics again, how long did it take you to learn?

RR: I did an enormous amount of research prior to starting, which is absolutely essential in all the feats that I perform. Even though I perform some of the most dangerous feats possible, I also insist on doing them as safely as possible. The research alone before even picking up a sword went on for months and months.

Actual practice with the blade consisted of daily practice, three times a day for well over a year before I was able to swallow my first blade to the hilt. And even then, the blade was only twelve inches in length, which doesn’t even officially qualify as a sword. It was several months of continued daily practice beyond that point until I was able to consistently swallow the longer blades. So all told, the entire process from conception to full sword swallow took perhaps two years. Working with the blade itself took perhaps a year and a half.

SW: Do you still have to practice that much?

RR: For years I would make sure that I swallowed a sword at least once a day. Oddly enough it became part of my bedtime ritual. I’d swallow one just before going to bed. But now, due to the number of years I’ve been doing it and the number of shows that I do, I usually don’t swallow them at all between shows. I perform upwards of two hundred or more shows per year, so the continual performing keeps me in practice.

SW: How long are your swords?

RR: I use many swords of many different lengths, but the ones that I swallow most often range in size from twenty to twenty four inches. The only time I swallow smaller blades is if I’m doing a multiple sword swallow routine – which isn’t often. Typically the only time that I swallow longer is for special occasions such as film and television work. Truth be told, twenty inches is plenty visual enough for stage work and it’s very comfortable for those times when I’m doing a lot of back-to-back shows.

SW: I’ve seen many of the sword swallowers performing today and I can’t help but notice that your swords are pretty big compared to most, and exceptionally wide as well.

RR: It’s true. And my swords range in width from one to one and a half inches. But the reason that I don’t swallow smaller swords is kind of funny. It’s not because I have anything to prove – though the bigger they are the more visible on stage they are – it’s just that swallowing the smaller swords, and especially thinner swords, is difficult for me. They actually tickle, which makes me want to cough. It’s not that way with everyone.

SW: Speaking of coughing, tell us about the gag reflex. Do you have one?

RR: Absolutely! In fact, I often gag when I brush my teeth at night! I actually have a very well-developed gag reflex, but as you know, that’s not compatible with swallowing swords. A good portion of the time spent learning was spent in serious concentration and meditation learning to mentally suppress that reflex. It’s not that I don’t have one but rather, when the sword is raised above my head I am instantly able to put myself into a self-hypnotic state where nothing exists but me, the sword and my throat. Through extreme concentration I am able to control whether I gag or not.

SW: Are you aware of the people around you then?

RR: Extremely! I’d venture to say that I’m in fact hyper-aware. But I am so extremely focused on the task at hand, that a bomb could go off next to me and I wouldn’t flinch. I can’t, else I’d be in serious danger! Instead, I’d calmly have to remove the sword and only then react to the situation.

That’s why flashes of cameras and applause do not bother me, though I’m aware of them. I should mention that this is NOT an invitation to test my ability to remain calm! Sword swallowing is an extremely life threatening activity and I ask that every audience member stay put, do not approach the stage, do not throw anything and do not, under any circumstances, touch me while I’m doing it.

SW: Have you ever been hurt and if so, what happened?

RR: Once, and it was my own fault. I had swallowed a particular new sword far too many times and didn’t pay attention to the increasing difficulty of doing so. I was wearing the lining of my throat thin by swallow the blade so often and didn’t give attention to the signs. Eventually, I wore two tracks through my throat – holes if you will – straight down the sides of my esophagus to the level of my collarbone. The scary thing is that I didn’t know about it until hours after it happened. In fact, I had a wonderful evening filled with good friends, good food and movies. I spent the entire evening having a good time as if everything was perfectly normal; all the while I had a hole in my throat. It wasn’t until I brushed my teeth before bed, spit into the sink and discovered that it was all blood that I realized there was a problem. The next day I couldn’t swallow at all, and I was confined to a liquid diet and extremely strong antibiotics for a long time. It was several months before I swallowed another sword. There’s no surgery that can help an injury like that.

SW: What have you learned from that experience and how has it changed your approach to the acts?

RR: I often say that I have hurt myself seriously once and only once with each and every stunt that I perform. Though the learning phase of any new stunt leaves a student extremely vulnerable to injury, it’s oddly never been during this period, but rather after I’ve been performing a stunt for some time, have gained proficiency and brought it to the stage that I then injure myself. I attribute this to the comfort that develops after performing a stunt often enough. It leads to a certain cockiness and brashness that inevitably leads to injury. I become too comfortable with the routine, become less mindful and end up injuring myself. What I have learned is to consistently maintain mindfulness, always treat the stunt as if it’s the first time you’ve performed it, and never become indifferent to the danger – regardless of how comfortable with it you are.

SW: I have asked this question to many performers and always receive the same answer – “don’t get into the business.” If we all listened to those words there wouldn’t be even forty sword swallowers in the world today, so what advice would you give to an up-and-comer?

RR: These arts are for the serious minded. Unless you have a genuine drive to become a stage performer – and give it all you’ve got in the process – then don’t even consider trying any of this. Out of respect for the art, for those practicing it and for your own self, stay away and do not dilute the field with your amateur experiments. In many fields, it is dedicated amateurs that drive innovation and evolution. It’s not so with these performance arts, and in fact is quite the opposite. This isn’t ham radio, people! Amateurs in this field lower the value of the art by performing it poorly and are largely responsible for the high incidence of accidents, which often involve not only themselves but also unwitting audience members and venues. The only time that I would condone an amateur with no serious professional dreams experimenting in this arena is in the case of serious self-exploration, which should nevertheless remain a hands-on learning experience and must never be performed in front of an audience. If I ever hear anyone bragging that they swallow swords and they are not a performing professional, then they are dumb.

So to sum up the point – don’t do it unless you’re serious. And if you do ultimately want to be on stage, there are a million other things – even within the same industry – that you can perform first to gain stage experience. Start with those things.

I’ve worked myself to the bone and risked my life to become a sword swallower. In my opinion, the fewer sword swallowers in the world the better. But I’m not going to tell anyone to stay out of the industry, whether they choose sword swallowing or any of the other arts (but let me give you a hint: the other arts are easier, choose those!). But I really can’t stress enough to people out there who want to take to the stage: make for darn sure that you’re doing it for the right reasons, and please, for the sake of everyone, elevate the art, don’t drag it down. If I see another cocky kid jumping on stage and making a fool of himself while jamming a nail up his nose to get attention, I will gladly hammer the nail in for him. He won’t want to do it again. Unfortunately, each time that happens the literal nail represents yet another metaphoric nail in the coffin of our industry, nails that professional performers have to work double-time to pry back out.

If you do it, do it well – else get off the stage.

SW: Where would you suggest a person start and what would be the best and safest way to learn the?

RR: Oh, now you want practical advice, eh? Starting with inner soul searching wasn’t enough?

I suppose that in light of my “…else get off the stage” comment, I should clarify things a bit.

I said earlier that we all need a place to be bad. This is equally as important decades into a career as it is at the beginning. Artists are always evolving and even a seasoned professional needs some place to try out new material. An amateur looking to gain experience and become professional needs the stage time even more. But the catch-22 in what I stated above is probably obvious: if you’re not good, you need to be on stage practicing, but if you’re on stage not being good, you should get off. How then do you become better?

There are plenty of venues and opportunities to be bad and gain experience. Local venues that are away from the media. Some charity events and most private events. Even clubs. Work them. Learn your craft. Even if you are good, it would be hard to be noticed in these places, so you don’t need to worry about ruining a reputation. Moreover, if you’re just starting you don’t have one yet.

The problem with today’s world is that we can, with a minimum of effort, broadcast our activities to the world instantly. With a minimum of know-how, we can create world-class marketing material and sell our show with it. On the strength of a well-edited video and professional-looking print material, we can sell ourselves to bigger clients where there will be a media spotlight and national attention. But don’t let the fact that you can create this material and convince someone to buy your show fool you into thinking that your show is ready for it. Stay small, stay local and don’t attract undue attention until you’re certain that you have gained experience and have solid material. As tempting and lucrative as some of these contracts may sound, don’t take it before you’re ready lest you embarrass yourself, reflect poorly on the industry and potentially damage your reputation before you have one.

But enough of that, let’s get back to the question.

The safest way to learn is always hands-on and should always be accompanied by enormous amounts of research. Where should someone start? Well, develop a relationship with a professional. I can’t tell you how or where to go about that, as it’s a highly personal thing, but a relationship needs to be there. If someone contacts me out of the blue looking to learn a stunt – and this is true of most in the industry – I won’t give you the time of day. Get out there and perform – anything. Remember, the art is in the performance, not the stunt. So put together an act that is safe, repeatable and can get you experience. By the time that you’ve learned enough to move forward, you’ll have undoubtedly developed some relationships with professionals – you’re performing after all, so we’re bound to run into each other! Maybe then we can talk.

SW: I have heard it said by many Carnival Managers and Fair Board Members that sideshows and sideshow stunts are no longer in vogue and they don’t want them on their midways or in their shows. Where do you see the industry going in the next few years and how do you plan on keep up with the trends?

RR: I entirely believe that event managers are, as you say, pushing sideshow away. But then, isn’t that why we call is sideshow?

Sideshow stunts and stunt shows in general are absolutely not out of vogue. And even if they were, they could be presented in new ways so as to remain in vogue. Too many are obsessed with the idea of remaining “true” to the historic sideshow – all the while presenting their material in historically inauthentic ways! Sideshow is an art and art evolves. Entertainment changes with the times. As much as I too am in love with the romantic vision of old-time sideshow, the truth is that it can change radically and be presented in new ways for a new world and still be sideshow art.

Some of my own markets are actually perfect for sideshow, and I don’t anticipate that changing for a long, long time. Renaissance faires and the college circuit are especially open to it, and those two circuits alone could sustain a large number of performers and troupes. It just so happens that to be successful in those markets, you really have to work hard, so hopefully that would weed out the bad shows.

Though I certainly don’t want others moving into the market with me, theater has enormous potential. But then, I don’t know why anyone would want to be there… Yeah, on second thought, it’s not all that great… Best to stay away…

Seriously though, sideshow can play anywhere and be met with extraordinary success. Yes, some venues will be more difficult than others – and I myself often avoid certain venues. But when it comes down to it, if you have a good show, you have a good show. And if you’re a good entertainer, you can play anywhere.

One of the biggest obstacles facing solo performers and troupes today is the fact that many are poor business people. You’ve heard it said that there’s a reason that it’s called show business. And I’ll be honest with you, I’ve seen some of the marketing of folks out there and the content of their shows, and it’s not uncommon for them to portray themselves inappropriately for the venues they are trying to book. They create material that appeals to only a highly unusual minority and are surprised when they don’t get booked. If your show only appeals to a select few then you won’t be able to attract a crowd and the venue isn’t going to bring in the money they need to stay afloat. End result? You don’t get hired. Even if the owner of the club loves your stuff, if you can’t draw a crowd, you won’t get booked.

If the industry takes a serious look at how their material is not only presented (which is step one!) but also at how it is represented, there will be no end to the work available, in all venues. What’s holding the industry back is not the consuming public, but the very people trying to push it forward. Especially the newest entertainers, who have many mistaken assumptions.

SW: Do you think it will create more competition and less chance for young people to enter the industry and why?

RR: I certainly think that with better acts and more venues booking good material there will be more competition. But that only helps to improve the overall quality of shows and their performers! There’s no obstacle for young people.

SW: Even now there are not a lot of professionals that will teach the skills and there is also a caution and unwillingness to share routes and gig dates because of the feeling that they might lose a gig or be undercut for a performance. Have you ever had the experience of being undercut, (you know a lot of people think a Sword Swallower is just a Sword Swallower) has this hurt you and what impact has it had on the overall industry?

RR: Certainly I’ve been undercut. But frankly, for those events that are looking for a bargain price, I’m not the right entertainer anyway. I am very upfront about being expensive, and why. And there’s so much work out there that, if one event doesn’t work out, there will be others to take its place. I stopped worrying a long time ago.

But since you mentioned that some people think that a “sword swallower is just a sword swallower” (which is true), I have to call back to some of my previous statements and reiterate that I’m not marketing a “sword swallower”. I may use it as a hook, certainly. But what I am marketing is me. When people hire me, they are not getting a “sword swallower”, they are getting Roderick Russell. And I’m not being big-headed here; it’s really about the person. I don’t watch Woody Allen for the jokes, I watch Woody Allen for Woody Allen. He could be telling someone else’s bad jokes, but by virtue of the fact that he’s Woody Allen, he’d make them funny. It’s him as a character that I want to see, not the material – original, stock or otherwise. Give a dinner menu to George W. Bush and one to John Kerry and ask them both to read it aloud. The material is the same – and not all that interesting. Which would you rather see? Why?

SW: We have explored you, the act, the sword and the audience. How do each influence and contribute to who you are as a performer and how does this relate to your performance?

RR: It’s all one vast circle of learning that’s constantly going ‘round and ‘round. Or perhaps I should refer to it as a wheel, for occasionally the learning process is difficult and I feel as if I’ve been run over. But life continues, I learn from my audience, they inform my performance, my performance informs me and I feed that right back into the cycle. One doesn’t work without the other, and art isn’t created in isolation (that’s a whole essay in and of itself).

I’ve tried to take one or another element out of the equation and it’s extremely difficult. This past year I spent close to six months working on an artistic grant. As a result of that, I trimmed back my performing schedule and instead spent an enormous amount of time at home and in local café’s writing and considering new material. With six months of uninterrupted time before the first preview performance, I had a lot of time to not test my material on an audience. The end product turned out fantastic, but what I took six months to accomplish could have been done much more quickly if I had an audience there regularly throughout the process.

SW: What other words of wisdom and encouragement do you have?

RR: For the performers out there – worry less about what you’re doing and more about how you’re doing it. And be proud that you’re the ones keeping the magic and mystery alive for the world – it’s a monumental responsibility, and an honor.

SW: Is there anything else you want to share or anyone you would like to thank?

RR: People to thank? Oh gosh, there are so many! Let’s keep it limited to the context of the interview for the sake of brevity (is that possible?).

I’d like to thank you, John Robinson and Sideshow World, for this wonderful opportunity. I’d like to thank the sideshow community, without whom we’d have no reason for speaking. I can’t speak highly enough of the family-like quality of the industry, and I’m proud to be a part of it and have such incredible brothers and sisters. Finally, I think we should all thank the audience, the reason we’re doing it all.

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