dancinghorse | Then longeth folk to goon on pilgrimage

Just back from Columbus and the Lipizzan Convergence. These are impressions a la trip report, and may be expanded later (and oh do I owe comments on earlier comments and I grovel that I owe them). (Reality will now intrude and I will start being better about obligations).

After a rather frantic week of preparation and farm-battening, I got up before dawn (5 a.m. on the dot, to be precise) and showered and fed horses (in the dark, mom! are you nuts, mom?) and ran off to the airport for a 7:55 flight. The $8-a-day lot was full, so I turned around and found the $2.99-a-day lot with the shuttle that was waiting right there, and made it in more than enough time for my flight. Even had time for one El Charro Rapido's amazing breakfast burritos--those keep me going all day, which is a very good thing when dealing with modern air travel).

There was a small mechanical problem but the plane left only a few minutes late and actually arrived in Dallas early. I had a long layover, but it's a good airport for that, with decent food and comfortable places to sit. Flight to Columbus was on time, uneventful, and I caught a cab and was in the hotel by 5 p.m.--excellent as I had to be at the reception for the riders at 7:30. There was ample time to check in, find

whitezinnia in the room, change, and head for the bar to hang out until the reception. This was amusing as the hotel was full of percussion artists--5000 of them. They all look like sf fans, so both

casacorona and I kept wandering off with them and missing the Lippfolk. They in turn seemed to think we were part of their tribe.

Not that we failed to spend plenty of time with our proper clan. The reception was very pleasant. Very nice food, and the riders all came and played with us and bought auction items and made it clear they like us.

Saturday was a meeting and performance day. It was very con-like--lots of big gatherings in the restaurant, including a Lipizzaner-list breakfast and another, similar lunch. There were talks from the recently fired director of the school and stud farm and from the Head Rider--carefully separate and much eyebrow-lifting and whispering of intrigue--but no stable tour. USDA regulations had the stallions in quarantine, so we weren't allowed in, though some people did manage to get in anyway.

In the evening we met some old friends from Equine-L and Dressage-L and went to the pre-performance clinic. If you go to any of the other performances, do go to that, it's wonderful. It starts two hours before the performance, and all you need is your ticket to get in. It lasts 45 minutes and is basically a lesson and clinic with three riders and one horse in the short rein, with demos and instruction. The first day, one of the horses was seriously spooky, and that was turned into a very educational session. The utter quiet of the rider and the depth and balance of his seat were very impressive, and so was his control over a very explosive stallion.

The real pleasure of course was seeing yet again how similar their lessons are to ours at home. :)

Also of interest: the older stallion trying to demonstrate a bad pirouette, and doing his best but being a little puzzled. "Are you sure you want me to do it this way?"

After the clinic we had just enough time to run to the restaurant next to the arena and have a nice dinner, then pop back to the arena for the performance. And that was magical. The SRS had declined for a while, but in the past decade or so they've got it all back--and they were at the top of their game. They did all of the segments of the Vienna performance except the Young Stallions (Junge Hengste). We had the grand entry of ten stallions in cadence riding elegant figures, then the pas de deux (ballet of two stallions moving in harmony), the work on the short rein (the Airs in hand and piaffe between the pillars), the long rein (a master demonstration in which the rider "rides" from directly behind the horse and the horse performs all the Grand Prix movements in response to touches of rein or stick or--and this fascinated me--movements of the rider's body within his line of sight), the Airs and movements of the high school under saddle (no stirrups), the second master demonstration of the solo rider with all the reins in one hand (and therefore out of play) and a whip held vertical with thumb and forefinger while the horse performs the movements solely through the rider's seat, and finally the School Quadrille which is the famous dance of the white horses: eight horses in unison performing to music.

The riders are so soft and so still, and the horses so relaxed and happy even while they perform movements that run Olympic dressage horses into the ground--some people who had never seen this before but had seen competitions were astonished at how easy these horses and riders made it look. Lord knows I find competition dressage labored and laborious to watch, and at times actively painful. There's no pain here--just pure masterful ease and breathtaking smoothness and strength. Some movements you'll never see in competition because the horses don't have the training or the strength: piaffe pirouette, half pass in passage, canter pirouettes that went on and on, and of course the Airs. Five courbettes in a row--the courbetteur was very good. Levades that literally hung in air for a count of seconds, and explosive caprioles. Two of the horses, including the master's solo mount, are 26 years old--consider that breakdown age for an Olympic horse is 17. The old horses looked wonderful and were doing the "Olympic" movements with ease and grace.

Doesn't hurt either that the horses are shining white and bred for charisma, in their white saddles and solid gold trappings, with the riders in simple brown carrying cut sticks--actual sticks from trees, not fancy whips, to show their humility before the horse. They did btw bring their dark horse, the seal bay, who was beautiful and set off the gold bridle and breastplate and crupper very nicely indeed.

For arena decor at home, I would like a scattering of riders in doeskin breeches, lounging here and there. Such a nice complement to the rustic setting.

There's lots to remember there. Those deep, quiet, supple seats and quiet aids, with unruffled patience when the horses had little moments; beautiful balance; relaxation and soft strength in both horses and riders, and the deep bond between them.

The white show saddles are new, redesigned, and much more comfortable, we were told, though the training saddles are dressage saddles like ours, and for schooling the horses wear snaffle bits. The horses are Lipizzans--intelligent, opinionated, and not always push-button, though when they perform, they go into the zone and become one with their riders. I had a really clear sense of why Pooka is the way he is--not that I didn't get it before, but this clarified it. His intense focus and hypersensitivity make total sense in the context of what he's bred for. So does his strong one-woman-horse tendency.

After Saturday's performance, we adjourned to the bar and burbled for hours. Then we had to get up early Sunday and attend the Lipizzan Federation of the Americas meeting--much good is coming of that, organizations burying old hatchets, cooperation instead of competition, and big plans for the future. There will be a nationwide kuering in Ohio next year with a new panel of judges; I won't bring horses but I will do my best to go and watch and lend a hand as needed.

I had to run from the meeting to meet a friend for an early lunch, then head off to the clinic again--more good training neep--and a second performance. I was running out of steam by then and was losing it a bit, but the magic was there and I was very sad to see the Quadrille end and realize I wouldn't be seeing the boys in white again on this tour. This time the pas de deux threw in a lovely extended trot--for fun, I think--and everything else was as good as ever. I went from that to dinner with another group of friends, and then it was done.

The trip home today was long but without incident, all flights on time, no problems. I was home in time for horse dinner, and the critters were all glad to see me. Tia did a comic doubletake and just about leaped into my arms. "You came back!" Of course I did. But she's a baby, she couldn't be sure until it happened. She had an attack of the whees after that, she was so overcome. She's grown just since I left; her butt is twice the size. She has a very magisterial butt.

And here I am, back to reality, with a deadline to bunker down into and a whole lot of work to do. And it was all worth it--every bit.