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dancinghorseThis, I swear, is my last spate of work avoidance before I leap screaming into the bunker and emerge sometime around Christmas with a novel in my teeth.
The best part about the whole Lipizzan Convergence thing, really, was coming home to my own Fat White Ponies, and having a lesson day right away. Our lessons are very much in the tradition--when I watch the riders teach, it's just like home.
It was a very low-key lesson day. Keed coughed all weekend (he seems much better today), so no ride for him. When I went to get Capria, she was finishing breakfast and Camilla was pushing in front of me, demanding the halter, insisting that she get the lesson. With Camilla, we make her beg, so I took her out instead and told Teacher to have fun. Teacher free-longed her--she was in splendid form, showing off her beautiful movement--and then did a little body work with her, followed by ground-driving. Camilla had a lovely time. She loves her driving training. I do believe she wants to be ridden, but at the moment, driving is her thing. No surprise really, considering the mares are superlative driving horses.
By that time Capria was done with breakfast and deigned to come out. It was quite hot and she's suddenly in full winter coat, which explains her slowness. We did a lesson in walk--something we do once in a while, because it's very precise and very exacting and very good for horse and rider. The exercises were wiggly bits pretty much ad lib, requiring that she be straight, forward, rhythmic, and supple. The final exercise was a 10m circle opening into shoulder-in, retaining the bend of the circle. Simple enough, but I tend to lock up when doing lateral work--early training was very forceful and demanding, with much screaming, and my whole body goes rigid when I hear "shoulder-in" or "half pass." Somehow, probably thanks to jet lag, this time that didn't happen. The result of course was smooth, effortless shoulder-in with no tension on Capria's part. Or, more important, mine.
During the lesson we talked about training and the SRS and much else. I'm doing basics now, something we review at least annually, but I'm not on the longeline because my focus needs to be on, after all these years, the rein aids. Teacher noted that she likes a quotation from an eminent trainer: "Dressage is 85% seat, 10%leg, and 5% rein." This is quite opposite to what we mostly see in the US and elsewhere, where the percentage is more like 75% rein and 25% leg. I could see it last year in the Santa Fe clinics: riders pulling in the head and neck, pushing with leg, but doing nothing with the seat. The problem, Teacher says, is that it's much easier to say "pull this rein, bump with this leg," and much harder to teach the rider to feel with the seat, then use that seat including abdominals, torso balance and tone, and thigh muscles to influence the horse. The master's solo in the SRS performance is a dramatic demonstration of riding purely from seat, and it takes many years to develop a seat to that degree of skill.
She talked about the math of the SRS. Students enter at age 14 or 15, are on the longeline six days a week for up to three years, then are gradually given reins and taught how to use them. The rest of us, riding once a week if we're lucky, need years and years to reach that level of proficiency. For me it's been eight and a half years, and I just got permission to use rein aids in the spring. There are ways around this--types of training such as Pilates and t'ai chi for riders that can help develop balance and strength off the horse--but it's still a long process.
But oh my, if you can stick with it, it is worth it. It was really nice to be able to watch the riders and know what they were doing--"invisible" aids are still visible in the horse's reactions, and I knew where to look to see what the riders (or the long-reiner) were doing. I'll remember how they sat and what they did, and do my best to translate it when I'm riding.
We also talked about what happens once you've learned to ride this way--how horses that are not correctly trained become very frustrating to ride. You can't just ride tricks or crank them around with reins. You can feel their stiffness, crookedness, and lack of strength, as well as the slowness or stiffness of their responses. You lose your ability to hop on an "advanced" horse and impress the rubes with fancy tricks--you're too busy looking for the engine and trying to get it started.
What keeps us going is that in spite of all the time and frustration, the feel is like nothing else. The horse is so light, so balanced, and so willing--resistance disappears, and if he does have a spook attack, he sucks you down into his back and you go right along with him. You're much safer on a classically trained horse, with classical training of your own, then just trying to hang on regardless. And, the classically trained horse will respond to your balanced and precise aids by focusing on you and defusing the spook, which adds to the safety factor. That's why dressage competition has military roots--it originated as a way to keep cavalry recruits safe and on their horses in combat. Their horses had to be quite literally bombproof.
Teacher is very proud of keed btw. She says that with one day a week of correct training, with me ponying and trail-riding him in between to keep his strength up, he's progressed amazingly fast. She's simply had fun with him. No goals or deadlines. Nothing in mind but forward, straight, supple, obedient. 30-45 minutes per session with 20 minutes max of intensive work. And gradually, then more quickly, he's started getting it, and she's asked for more and he's given it, and now he's schooling second level and almost ready to show training level. He's started collected work, he has nice early lateral work, and his simple changes of lead are coming along. It's been about a year and a half--just about what it would be in Vienna. That's correct training for you--and a talented horse, but he'd be a mess if he didn't have a trainer who knew what she was doing.
So, a very good lesson, with lots to think about, and some personal progress.
Meanwhile the quibblers are emerging after Columbus performances. Not that there weren't things to quibble--but as with everything else, there are always people who have to make themselves feel good by playing Expert Critic. I was particularly less-than-impressed by the person who came on one of the riders' own mailing list and demanded to know why some horses in the performance he saw were "behind the vertical." This is a favorite bugbear of those who can rattle off dressage terms, but it's also, if you know real dressage, a Mark of the Amateur. It shows that you're focused on the head and neck and don't understand that the real action is in the rear. It also shows that you may not be able to see whether a horse really is in correct form, because with stallions especially, the height of the crest may distort the line of the neck and make you think he's lower in the poll than in the neck vertebrae when in fact he's not. And, even if he has sucked back, it may be a brief fuss or a temporary loss of balance, which even the best horses and riders may succumb to during a lengthy performance.
The rider hasn't responded yet, of course--he's on tour--but I'll be interested to see what he says. There was also a very snippy critique on one of the open lists, of the "things were ever so much better 50 years ago" variety--that was countered by the listowner, who was also there and who is a very fine theoretician of classical riding, and the critic has since backpedaled fairly completely.
I don't actually think things were significantly better 50 years ago, based on the videos I've seen. I do think the school declined in the eighties and nineties, but what I saw over the weekend was notably better than what was in display 10 and 15 years ago. The youngest riders looked very good, which is a testimonial to their training and a good sign for the future. The horses were beautifully and correctly muscled, relaxed, supple, and happy*--and the 26yo stallions were performing movements considerably beyond the capacity of competition horses 10 and 15 years younger. 25 effortless tempi changes versus the 15 of the Grand Prix test, which are often missed or performed with stress and tension, just for example.
*Which was impressive considering they had been shut in stalls for six days after transport from Europe, were only let out for rehearsals on Thursday, and were in a spooky, echo-y arena full of strange sounds and smells. They may be great masters of the art, but they're still horses, and stallions at that--and very, very fit. It's no wonder a couple of them were jumping out of their skins.
Even Quibble Person had to allow as how there is nothing out there right now to compare with the quality of work--it's lightyears above anything else that calls itself dressage. It's painful to go from this to watching, say, a World Cup video, and the Olympics...ouch. But these riders will continue to call the stallions "circus horses" and insist that "they could not possibly execute movements as difficult as those of the Grand Prix test."
And so it goes. Human nature at its finest.
Personally I had the same reaction I did in 1980: I Want This. Didn't need I Want One, I've got seven (eight if you count Gaudia, who belongs to Teacher). ;>
My next project is to figure out how to get Pook (and Teacher, probably with keed) to a clinic with one of these riders in the next year to year and a half. It's getting toward time for that, oh yes.
The best part about the whole Lipizzan Convergence thing, really, was coming home to my own Fat White Ponies, and having a lesson day right away. Our lessons are very much in the tradition--when I watch the riders teach, it's just like home.
It was a very low-key lesson day. Keed coughed all weekend (he seems much better today), so no ride for him. When I went to get Capria, she was finishing breakfast and Camilla was pushing in front of me, demanding the halter, insisting that she get the lesson. With Camilla, we make her beg, so I took her out instead and told Teacher to have fun. Teacher free-longed her--she was in splendid form, showing off her beautiful movement--and then did a little body work with her, followed by ground-driving. Camilla had a lovely time. She loves her driving training. I do believe she wants to be ridden, but at the moment, driving is her thing. No surprise really, considering the mares are superlative driving horses.
By that time Capria was done with breakfast and deigned to come out. It was quite hot and she's suddenly in full winter coat, which explains her slowness. We did a lesson in walk--something we do once in a while, because it's very precise and very exacting and very good for horse and rider. The exercises were wiggly bits pretty much ad lib, requiring that she be straight, forward, rhythmic, and supple. The final exercise was a 10m circle opening into shoulder-in, retaining the bend of the circle. Simple enough, but I tend to lock up when doing lateral work--early training was very forceful and demanding, with much screaming, and my whole body goes rigid when I hear "shoulder-in" or "half pass." Somehow, probably thanks to jet lag, this time that didn't happen. The result of course was smooth, effortless shoulder-in with no tension on Capria's part. Or, more important, mine.
During the lesson we talked about training and the SRS and much else. I'm doing basics now, something we review at least annually, but I'm not on the longeline because my focus needs to be on, after all these years, the rein aids. Teacher noted that she likes a quotation from an eminent trainer: "Dressage is 85% seat, 10%leg, and 5% rein." This is quite opposite to what we mostly see in the US and elsewhere, where the percentage is more like 75% rein and 25% leg. I could see it last year in the Santa Fe clinics: riders pulling in the head and neck, pushing with leg, but doing nothing with the seat. The problem, Teacher says, is that it's much easier to say "pull this rein, bump with this leg," and much harder to teach the rider to feel with the seat, then use that seat including abdominals, torso balance and tone, and thigh muscles to influence the horse. The master's solo in the SRS performance is a dramatic demonstration of riding purely from seat, and it takes many years to develop a seat to that degree of skill.
She talked about the math of the SRS. Students enter at age 14 or 15, are on the longeline six days a week for up to three years, then are gradually given reins and taught how to use them. The rest of us, riding once a week if we're lucky, need years and years to reach that level of proficiency. For me it's been eight and a half years, and I just got permission to use rein aids in the spring. There are ways around this--types of training such as Pilates and t'ai chi for riders that can help develop balance and strength off the horse--but it's still a long process.
But oh my, if you can stick with it, it is worth it. It was really nice to be able to watch the riders and know what they were doing--"invisible" aids are still visible in the horse's reactions, and I knew where to look to see what the riders (or the long-reiner) were doing. I'll remember how they sat and what they did, and do my best to translate it when I'm riding.
We also talked about what happens once you've learned to ride this way--how horses that are not correctly trained become very frustrating to ride. You can't just ride tricks or crank them around with reins. You can feel their stiffness, crookedness, and lack of strength, as well as the slowness or stiffness of their responses. You lose your ability to hop on an "advanced" horse and impress the rubes with fancy tricks--you're too busy looking for the engine and trying to get it started.
What keeps us going is that in spite of all the time and frustration, the feel is like nothing else. The horse is so light, so balanced, and so willing--resistance disappears, and if he does have a spook attack, he sucks you down into his back and you go right along with him. You're much safer on a classically trained horse, with classical training of your own, then just trying to hang on regardless. And, the classically trained horse will respond to your balanced and precise aids by focusing on you and defusing the spook, which adds to the safety factor. That's why dressage competition has military roots--it originated as a way to keep cavalry recruits safe and on their horses in combat. Their horses had to be quite literally bombproof.
Teacher is very proud of keed btw. She says that with one day a week of correct training, with me ponying and trail-riding him in between to keep his strength up, he's progressed amazingly fast. She's simply had fun with him. No goals or deadlines. Nothing in mind but forward, straight, supple, obedient. 30-45 minutes per session with 20 minutes max of intensive work. And gradually, then more quickly, he's started getting it, and she's asked for more and he's given it, and now he's schooling second level and almost ready to show training level. He's started collected work, he has nice early lateral work, and his simple changes of lead are coming along. It's been about a year and a half--just about what it would be in Vienna. That's correct training for you--and a talented horse, but he'd be a mess if he didn't have a trainer who knew what she was doing.
So, a very good lesson, with lots to think about, and some personal progress.
Meanwhile the quibblers are emerging after Columbus performances. Not that there weren't things to quibble--but as with everything else, there are always people who have to make themselves feel good by playing Expert Critic. I was particularly less-than-impressed by the person who came on one of the riders' own mailing list and demanded to know why some horses in the performance he saw were "behind the vertical." This is a favorite bugbear of those who can rattle off dressage terms, but it's also, if you know real dressage, a Mark of the Amateur. It shows that you're focused on the head and neck and don't understand that the real action is in the rear. It also shows that you may not be able to see whether a horse really is in correct form, because with stallions especially, the height of the crest may distort the line of the neck and make you think he's lower in the poll than in the neck vertebrae when in fact he's not. And, even if he has sucked back, it may be a brief fuss or a temporary loss of balance, which even the best horses and riders may succumb to during a lengthy performance.
The rider hasn't responded yet, of course--he's on tour--but I'll be interested to see what he says. There was also a very snippy critique on one of the open lists, of the "things were ever so much better 50 years ago" variety--that was countered by the listowner, who was also there and who is a very fine theoretician of classical riding, and the critic has since backpedaled fairly completely.
I don't actually think things were significantly better 50 years ago, based on the videos I've seen. I do think the school declined in the eighties and nineties, but what I saw over the weekend was notably better than what was in display 10 and 15 years ago. The youngest riders looked very good, which is a testimonial to their training and a good sign for the future. The horses were beautifully and correctly muscled, relaxed, supple, and happy*--and the 26yo stallions were performing movements considerably beyond the capacity of competition horses 10 and 15 years younger. 25 effortless tempi changes versus the 15 of the Grand Prix test, which are often missed or performed with stress and tension, just for example.
*Which was impressive considering they had been shut in stalls for six days after transport from Europe, were only let out for rehearsals on Thursday, and were in a spooky, echo-y arena full of strange sounds and smells. They may be great masters of the art, but they're still horses, and stallions at that--and very, very fit. It's no wonder a couple of them were jumping out of their skins.
Even Quibble Person had to allow as how there is nothing out there right now to compare with the quality of work--it's lightyears above anything else that calls itself dressage. It's painful to go from this to watching, say, a World Cup video, and the Olympics...ouch. But these riders will continue to call the stallions "circus horses" and insist that "they could not possibly execute movements as difficult as those of the Grand Prix test."
And so it goes. Human nature at its finest.
Personally I had the same reaction I did in 1980: I Want This. Didn't need I Want One, I've got seven (eight if you count Gaudia, who belongs to Teacher). ;>
My next project is to figure out how to get Pook (and Teacher, probably with keed) to a clinic with one of these riders in the next year to year and a half. It's getting toward time for that, oh yes.
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 04:46 pm (UTC)Re walk lessons--I used to do them a lot in the hot, hot Lubbock, TX, summers with my Thoroughbred . . . lovely, long, free, rhythmic strides. We're still mainly doing groundwork and "let the trainer do the riding so the horse can fell what right is" under saddle work. But I've been worried about when my turn comes, because I understand that Lipizzans can get pace-y if pushed, so now, of course, I hallucinate pacing when I watch too closely. Issue or non-issue? Suggestions if an issue? Or just an acceptable trade-off (if mild enough) for that incredible, light, floaty trot?
(No need to answer unless you have time and are in the mood . . . I'm happy to leave these questions rhetorical!)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-14 06:54 pm (UTC)The pacey thing happens with any big mover whose back end overruns his front. The answer is to collect: bring the back end under and get him to raise his front end. Takes time and strength. In the short term, it adds up to asking him to go just a bit slower than he wants to, and half-halting so he raises his withers as much as he can. Pook has the same problem. You want the walk to be good as it feeds into the other gaits, so it does pay to fix it.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-14 07:05 pm (UTC)Thanks for the answer--that makes perfect sense in terms of body structure and movement. That's a very helpful tip, too, and it should work for us, even with our somewhat different training method.
And let me say that the photos on your website are incredibly beautiful. I go look at them periodically, whenever I need to see something to elevate my spirit.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-14 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-14 07:30 pm (UTC)Meanwhile I'm riding a bunch of younguns including a stallion, retraining an older mare who is Huuuuuuge, and keeping my basics up with Capria, who is about the same size as His Nibs (but don't tell her; she thinks she's 16.3).
Thanks for nice words about the photos. Many of them are by the marvelous