WESTERN DRESSAGE, or is it?

www.lisascaglionedressage.com

photo courtesy Paul Thacker copyright 2012

     I have seen numerous articles in periodicals in the United States highlighting a new discipline called “Western Dressage” by its devotees and advocates. I initially thought this a rather fun and possibly positive development for the world of dressage, since outsiders not infrequently have the impression of dressage enthusiasts as being uninviting and overly serious. I imaged Western riders all geared up in their colorful attire and tack, trying to learn the basics of elementary dressage principles, while riding traditional American bred horses such as Morgans and Quarter Horses. While I imagined correctly regarding the attire and horses, my imagination was quite mistaken in its hopeful assumption that this new discipline would in some way advance the level of horsemanship in general, by making the principles of dressage known to a wider audience. On second look, I now fear we have a new group of uneducated dressage rider who "does not know what they do not know", as the saying goes. If the first type of uneducated dressage rider could be referred to as the "drive and hold" school, we might refer to the second type as the "ride your horse disconnected and on his forehand and call this lightness" school. In regards to the Western rider, I actually do no think this would matter so much if they considered their discipline something completely unassociated with dressage, and all its own. But, there seems to be a sentiment (and even a claim on their part) that what they practice is in the Classical tradition of Dressage, and not a few of them advertise themselves as Classical Dressage Trainers and Instructors. It is already an uphill battle to keep the Art of Classical Riding alive, due to the genuine lack of legitimate teachers of true Classical riding, as well as the fact that there are only a handful of modern Masters world wide who have a full understanding of its principles and an unbroken link to its tradition. It is not my intention to demean Western riders who participate in this new discipline, merely to suggest that it bears no resemblance to Dressage training whatsoever, and it would be more accurate and respectful to call it something like "Western Pattern Riding".
     Any educated dressage enthusiast who has seen even a still photo of a Western trained horse being ridden at what is called a ‘jog’ (Western trot)  and a ‘lope’ (Western canter) will immediately notice what distinguishes these uniquely Western ‘gaits’ from any correct dressage gait at any level. In the Western jog, the horse’s hind end is very much disengaged, has no real impulsion, and consequently no real energy. For the Western rider, if there were any significant impulsion or too much engagement, it would spoil the ‘jog’ which is meant to be a rather lazy, pleasant, easy to sit gait - perhaps preferred and even necessary for the Western cowboy who had to sit for long hours in the saddle on the Western range. The Western ‘lope’ is very much the same thing. It is a lazy canter which borders on the four-beat, due to a marked lack of energy from the hindquarters. With insufficient energy traveling from the horse’s hind end, across the horse’s back, and to his front end and mouth, there is no connection between the horse’s hindquarters and his forehand (no working through his back) and consequently no connection between the rider’s hand and the horse’s mouth . This lack of connection means the horse is not permeable to the rider’s aids. This lack of permeability to the aids would probably account for the reason most Western riders use the aid of very large and sharp spurs in order to motivate their horse (whereas in Classical Dressage, the aim is to sensitize the horse to a very light leg aid). Additionally, since there is insufficient energy for the rider to regulate through hand and seat, there is no way to ask the horse to shift his balance and to channel the energy up and into collection - the aim of Dressage.
     This leads us to another basic fault in the Western dressage model. Once the properly schooled Dressage horse is strong in his hind end and working through his back, his head and nose naturally fall just in front of the vertical (with a slight ask of the fingers) giving the head carriage of the dressage horse the outline that everyone associates with it. The degree to which the horse’s head is in front of, or at the vertical, is a consequence of the level of collection the horse has achieved (and somewhat also of his conformation). The more the horse is able to shift his weight to his hindquarters, rounding his body and shortening his base of support, the closer the horse’s nose will be to the absolute vertical. The longer the horse’s frame - whether it be because of a novice level of schooling, or because the horse is being asked to stretch - the further in front of the vertical his nose will be (assuming the horse is stretching with his poll above his withers, rather than below). In the first instance (collection), the angle at the poll is more closed. In the second (lengthening), the angle at the poll is more open. For a horse who is still very much on his forehand and ridden in a longer outline (as all the Western dressage mounts are) I would expect the horse’s poll to be more open - in other words, for the nose to be more in front of the vertical than it is displayed in Western dressage mounts. The underlying cause in these Western horses of a poll angle which is too closed for the level of the horse’s training has to do with the manner with which Western riders teach their horse to be “soft” in the bridle, or to yield to the bit. Before starting the horse under saddle (or breaking them as they call it) and sometimes before every ride, the rider will practice from the ground what they imagine are Flexions - they take one rein and pull the horse’s head full around practically to his side until he yields to the bit. I have nothing against teaching a horse to yield to the bit through properly practiced flexions, but this Western version of it (while possibly advantageous for Western disciplines) essentially teaches a horse to avoid the bit, particularly when done with a Western shank rather than a simple snaffle. In Dressage terms, a horse who has learned to avoid the contact of the bit by dropping behind it, is a horse in need of serious and complete re-schooling before any other work can be undertaken. The horse must be encouraged to reach for the bit - to seek the rider’s hand - not to arch his neck in avoidance of it. I should add here that proper reaching for the contact is in no way the same as leaning on the bit, which a horse will do when he is properly connected, but also too much on his forehand. Unfortunately, it seems to be precisely this lack of contact which causes Western Dressage enthusiasts to imagine that they are riding in ‘lightness’ - not knowing that it is only a very advanced dressage mount who has achieved complete self carriage who can be ridden with a rein so soft it can go slack and the horse will remain connected. Teaching the horse to drop behind the contact, while moving with disengaged hindquarters and on his forehand, is pretty well the near exact opposite of the very first principles and aims of Classical schooling.
     The one area where there is a significant similarity and overlap between Western riders and Classical Dressage is in the importance accorded the use of the seat. A rider with a well developed and correct Western seat is generally nearly in the same position as a rider with a Classical Dressage seat. This is indeed a very good basis for Western riders to take an interest in Dressage, and probably the reason they sense an affinity with the Classical school. A natural consequence of a highly developed rider seat is the ability of the rider to influence the horse more through the use of his weight, and increasingly less through leg and hand. A Western rider with a highly developed seat is able to do this quite well, and it is this which probably causes them to imagine that they are somehow riding according to Classical Dressage principles. But, without the proper schooling of the horse in the very fundamentals we have discussed above, we still have to call this fine use of the seat Advanced Western Riding, and not Dressage Riding. I might also point out, that as much as I greatly respect a good Western rider with a good Western seat, I see it about as often as I see dressage riders with good seats (which is not as often as one would like). One of the commonest faults one sees in the seat of Western riders is sitting behind the horse’s motion (leaning back behind the vertical). Sometimes this is so extreme the rider’s feet are pushed forward and down against the stirrups (rather than the leg hanging naturally by the force of gravity and the rider’s heels falling down naturally as an outcome of this). The consequences of this to the horse are quite significant - an undue heaviness on the horse’s back, which causes the horse to hollow his back away from the rider. Any time a dressage horse is presented with a tight and hollow back, the first priority of the rider should always be to take the pressure off the horse's back (by going to rising trot or a light seat in canter) to help the horse relax and lengthen his topline. One does not go on sitting and riding complicated patterns, and then press on to riding lateral work, with the horse hollow and resistant. The first priority of any schooling session is a horse who is both physically and mentally relaxed, and thus able to respond to the rider’s aids in a way that builds his confidence and his physique, not wears them down.
     Moving disconnected and on the forehand while riding patterns, or simply using one’s weight to move the horse sideways while he crosses his legs, are not in and of themselves Dressage. Unless they are done correctly and with a mind to developing the physique and general education of the horse, their purpose is lost, or even becomes counter-productive and damaging to the horse. Dressage exercises not properly ridden are a mere parody of dressage.  Every Dressage movement from half-pass to something as simple as a 20 meter circle has an important purpose in the development of the horse and should be ridden in proper progression. Before attempting half-pass, the horse should be well established in haunches-in. Before haunches-in, he is schooled in shoulders-in, before shoulders-in, a 10 meter circle, and before that a correctly ridden 20 meter circle. All of this takes years to accomplish if it is done correctly. You can claim to be riding elementary dressage if this work increases the strength of  the horse’s hindquarters and core muscles, supples him both laterally and longitudinally, and increases the ability of the horse to bend and flex the joints of his hind legs and place them more under his center of gravity. Any patterns or lateral work ridden not with this aim, cannot be called Dressage at all. From the point of view of the development of the horse, incorrectly ridden work will actually do harm to the general level of Dressage, causing one-sidedness and muscular resistances that are harmful to the horse’s health, particularly his joints. Riding the horse too much on his forehand is not only contrary to the fundamental training philosophy of Dressage, it will cause early onset of arthritis in the horse.
     Were riders in general (English as well as Western dressage riders) more diligent about learning what correct Dressage is before deciding they are proficient at it, the general level of horsemanship in this country would increase quite a bit. The pity is, that many of these riders have a very nice way with horses and a deep love for them, and I imagine might be quite capable of  increasing their level of skill and knowledge were they to realize just what it is they are lacking. Perhaps the fault here lies more in the lack of educational opportunities in this country, as well as the lack of any real tradition, or access to Masters of Classical horsemanship. Dressage schooling should indeed be the basis for the proper start of any horse, and should continue until the horse is confirmed in his elementary schooling when the rider can then specialize in any discipline - whether it be High School Dressage, Jumping, or even Western riding. Once a horse is schooled in the fundamentals of elementary Dressage he can be a handy, healthy and reliable mount for any discipline. A horse continuing on for more advanced Dressage work will be well prepared to begin schooling higher degrees of collection. The mount intended as an Eventer or Jumper will have the foundation for shortening and lengthening of strides so necessary when approaching a fence or between fences, and he will be more able to respond to a half-halt and to ‘collect’ himself in preparation for the take off at a jump. Even a Western trail horse can benefit from the gymnastic training of Dressage, which will help strengthen his muscles, and teach him to use his body to negotiate difficulties of balance (and I might add that the reverse is also true). This is not to mention that correct Dressage will make any horse stronger and more supple - in short healthier, more beautiful in his form and longer lived. It will also develop the natural gaits of any horse - not diminish them. One thing that I do love about Western dressage is the understanding that it is for any horse, not just for horses with big, flashy gaits. But, now that they’ve understood that, let’s share with them the knowledge to develop those Quarter Horse and Morgan gaits in a way which shows that every breed of horse can amplify the expression of his natural gaits, and show himself with the nobility of increased self carriage.
     I hope none of this sounds too critical of Western riders in general. I have tremendous respect for a good Western rider, and find some of their disciplines quite amazing, and others simply fun and friendly in a way that English disciplines too often lack. There are also great practical benefits to Western training which any one who has watched a real working ranch cannot help but admire and respect. What I am saying, is that I find it unfortunate that Western riders call their new discipline Dressage, and I find it presumptuous that they consider it Classical Dressage and even sell themselves as Classical Dressage Trainers. If it takes about ten years to create a Classical rider at the Spanish Riding School, why do they suppose that they have mastered it well enough to teach it, having only just discovered it? I would never dream of taking my horse into a field of cattle, running him at them, sending the cows in every direction, and calling this “reining”. Additionally, if I had done this repeatedly over time, I would certainly not advertise myself as a Reining Instructor. I consider reining to be a skill which takes much precision, timing, feel and a highly developed ability to communicate with the horse (not unlike dressage in this). Should I wish to pursue it, I would first make sure I understood what its purpose is, and would then seek out someone much advanced in the discipline to teach it to me. It is my hope that Western riders will show the same respect for a discipline about which they know very little, before assuming a title they do not even know the definition of. Were all riders to show this kind of interest and respect for other riding disciplines, we would have an equine community more able to appreciate the unique talents of other riders, and even to learn from them. But when we have another instance of riders, “not knowing what they do not know” this can only lead to more misunderstanding and even rancor across disciplines,  and certainly does nothing to raise the general level of Horsemanship all around, which should always be our primary purpose in promoting any Equine activity. Were Western dressage enthusiasts to change its name to something more accurate like “Western Pattern Riding”, I would be the first to cheer them on in their creative new activity. Not only this, I might feel inspired myself to don some really colorful Western wear, borrow a Western saddle, take my best trail horse to one of their events, and have myself a whole lot of fun giving it a good try. And if I scored rather badly at my first show, I would expect nothing less - knowing that I am certainly no expert at Western Pattern Riding.

Lisa Scaglione Classical Dressage

Dressage & Pseudo-Dressage

When is a Rose by the Same Name No Longer a Rose?

www.lisascaglionedressage.com 

I’ve seen the words Classical Dressage used so much of late, I was a little hesitant to call myself a classical dressage instructor, fearing the words had become meaningless, or worse, had become an empty marketing phrase. But, after so much effort on my part to become a properly educated rider and instructor, I’ll try instead to explain what actually distinguishes classical dressage. There are a number of excellent books written by those much worthier than myself, so this condensed version of classical vs. modern will be mainly observations of what I’ve seen, and what I’ve learned through instruction, study, and from my own horses 
   The word classical itself has numerous meanings: of or relating to the ancient Greeks or Romans; relating to the most artistically developed stage of a civilization; standard and authoritative rather than experimental - these are just a few that I found. All of these definitions would apply to some degree when we use the term Classical Dressage. I will use the term Modern Dressage to refer pejoratively to practices which have crept into riding in modern times and which are classically incorrect and harmful to the horse, but I'd actually prefer the term Pseudo-dressage, as it's the falseness of the practices, not the modernity which is the problem. As much else in life, these black and white distinctions do not hold up well, and there is more of a continuum between the two. There are many correctly trained riders who would not call themselves classical, but who do ride according to classical principles (perhaps with a few modern elements). There are also riders who ride using a bag a tricks which they’ve learned, but perhaps have also absorbed a few elements of correct riding along the way (or at least the terminology). Then there is an admix of everything in between. I will not use the term competitive dressage. The rules for the FEI were written by classically trained riders and are based on the classical principles of riding. In competition arenas you will find everything from the most accomplished to the absolutely tactless. Judging may also vary between those who reward correctness and harmony and those who reward mainly large and flashy gaits. I will not criticize any one national school. Personally, I find it commendable when a nation at least makes an effort to educate its riders and codify what it expects them to learn, even if one chooses to disagree with some of its teachings or methods. 
     The earliest treatise on horsemanship is from Xenophon, written before the time of Christ. During the Middle Ages in Europe horsemanship fell into decline, and it was only during the Renaissance in Italy that interest in horsemanship as an art was resurrected. From Italy this interest traveled to France, and then throughout much of Europe. Most of us know that military schools eventually became the holders and teachers of this art in order to train horses to be quick and reliable in battle, as well as for purposes of national pride in parade. The first European treatise on dressage was written in the early 18th century - F. de la Gueriniere’s School of Horsemanship. Then there are numerous more recent books written by those of the various national schools. It is difficult to describe in words what is actually feeling of movement, so one will notice some differences in wording and emphasis when reading works by different authors. One can say there is a French Classical School, a Portuguese Classical School, German Classical, Viennese, etc. The fundamentals are the same until we reach modern times, but there are some differences in style and emphasis. Riders were all men, and they were all from privileged, educated classes of society. Horsemanship was taken very seriously, and riders were rigorously trained by academies for horsemanship. In modern times, thankfully, we live in more egalitarian societies where anyone with a backyard with grass may own a horse; but this has left riders seeking training for themselves (from riders who have sought training for themselves) leading inevitably to techniques and ideas adopted and passed on because they seem to provide shortcuts to the training of the horse. Some of these false practices have come out of a false understanding and exaggeration of some of the differences between the national schools mentioned above. I will explain.
     Roundness and the horse’s back - is it a bow? In classical teaching the horse becomes ‘round’ due to the engagement and impulsion of his hindquarters and the resultant lifting of his forehand. The rider must school the horse carefully and over a long period of time through gymnastic work to strengthen and supple the joints of the hind end as well as the muscles of the hindquarter and core. We might think of an image of a motor boat - as the engine in the back of the boat lowers and increases in power, the front of the boat lifts naturally. The horse’s back gently swings and lifts as if meeting the rider’s seat, and the neck gently arches upward from the withers, flexing at the poll. One of the German classical writers in describing the feeling of the gently rounded horse’s back used the unfortunate term ‘bow’ (as in an archery bow) and it is this, I think, which has led to a basic misunderstanding in modern times of how to achieve roundness in the horse. Riders will often attempt to ‘make their horse round’ through the compression of the horses spine (like an archery bow). They will use leg and hand to force the horse’s spine to arch upward in an artificial manner. This compression of the horse’s back between the riders leg and hand causes too much flexion in the horse's spine, which can do physical harm to the horse. It also creates an incorrect balance in advanced horses, with the horse literally collapsing over his shoulders (on his forehand) rather than lifting in the shoulders and withers and lowering the hindquarters through the articulation of the joints of the hind end. Visually, this incorrect balance will result in a horse who is tight in the throat latch, who’s poll is too low with head behind the vertical and the cervical vertebra 'broken' somewhere near C3, who doesn‘t engage the limbs of the hindquarters sufficiently for the work demanded, and there will be an overall tightness and mechanical way of going. In extreme cases it is easy to see, as the horse is likely to drop his back during extended trot - flinging his front legs outward and not tracking up with his hind legs. In piaffe, his front legs will be angled sharply backward - toward his center of gravity - as a counterbalance to the weight of his head collapsing over his shoulders. Although not difficult to see in advanced horses, the problem begins with incorrect lower level schooling.
     Related to this incorrect attempt to achieve roundness, is an incorrect attempt to achieve connection. If you think of the energy generated by the hindquarters as an electric current, it travels from the horses hindquarters, through the horse’s back and the rider’s center of gravity, into and through the riders hands to the horse’s mouth, and back again to the hindquarters - like an electrical circuit. To achieve this, the horse is schooled from the very beginning to reach for the bit - to seek the rider’s hand. The hind end of the young horse is strengthened through forward movement and the hand is soft and stable to encourage the horse to seek the contact. This cannot be achieved if the horse is first started under saddle by lunging him in tight side reins with his head pulled part way to his chest in order to teach him to ‘go in a dressage frame’. The young horse needs time to come to trust both the bit and the rider’s hand. When the young horse has regained his balance (and no longer feels the need of his neck to help him balance under the weight of the rider) and when his hind end can move energetically, his nose will naturally drop on its own. As he becomes stronger and his balance shifts more to the rear, his haunches will lower, his neck will arch up from the withers, and the head will appear vertical to the ground (the ‘on the bit’ outline we are used to seeing). The angle at the horse’s atlas does not actually change - it remains about 90%. Any attempt to achieve this ‘look’ too early in the horse’s training (through hands pulling left and right or gadgets) pulls the horses head behind the 90% angle, disturbs the connection of energy from hindquarter to hand, and necessitates bigger and bigger aids to keep it all going. Obviously, self carriage could never be achieved in this manner, and the horse will resort to leaning on the rider’s hand for support to balance himself.
     This brings us to the next difference between classical and modern dressage - cessation of the aids. In classical dressage the horse is schooled to respond promptly to a light aid. If, for instance, a leg aid is given and the horse does not move forward, the leg aid is backed up with a light tap of the whip. I should not have to use my leg nagging or spurring with every stride in order to achieve energetic movement. If an adjustment needs to be made to the horse’s balance, I half halt. I promptly release my half halt and allow the horse to carry on. I do not hold him up with my hand. I repeat these aids as often as necessary, but I go back to 'neutral' when the horse responds. In this way he is rewarded, and he learns to balance himself with the rider on of top him (self carriage). If I were to go on continually asking with leg and hand (driving and holding),  the horse would perceive this as so much ‘white noise’ and would only respond to my aids when I resorted to ‘screaming’.
     Which brings us to separation of the aids. We all know that a young horse should not be given a rein and a leg aid at the same moment. He is just learning the meaning of our aids, and this would confuse him (go and stop at once). As the horse progresses and our aids become more nuanced, they begin to meld and are given closer together, but still not at the exact same moment. Ideally there should be a split second between, let’s say,  leg and hand aids, or between using the inside and the outside rein. In this way we give the horse 'someplace to go'. He is not bombarded from all sides with various aids at once, which would lead only to tension. This obviously does not mean that we 'drop' the contact with the horse’s mouth, or that we remove entirely our leg from the horse, but they do not act continually, nor do they act at the same time. In between more specific requests from my legs (forward, sideways, bend) the legs remain lightly on the horse “like wet towels” as one author wrote. In between more specific rein aids (half halt with the outside rein, or more flexion please with the inside rein) there should be a constant tension on the outside rein. The inside rein may be quite light or even go slack as the horse gently bends around the rider’s inside leg, filling the rider’s outside rein. This is another difference between classical and modern dressage. Many dressage instructors (and even some judges) will admonish you for ‘loss of contact’ if they see the inside rein go slack (of course, if you’re one of the unfortunate riders holding your horse up with your hands, you’ll probably need to keep firm 'contact' on both reins in order not to wear your arms out too soon).
     Next, we come to one of the differences between classical and modern that I find most interesting - relaxation. Everyone will admit that relaxation is important (because it’s in the German training scale) but it’s not easy to find anyone who can give a definition of its equestrian meaning.  According to Nicole Bartle, who translated a number of classical works on horsemanship, the French word for ‘relaxation’ (if translated literally) would be something like ‘decontraction’. In other words, it is the opposite of ‘contraction’. It signifies an absence of sustained contraction of muscle during movement. When a muscle is used it contracts - it must then ‘decontract’ and remain in a toned and ready state (not become entirely slack) until called upon again. This applies to both horse and rider. When a muscle remains in a sustained state of contraction, it becomes fatigued. At best, this condition is unpleasant for both horse and rider and results in overall tension in both. At worst, it can result in soft tissue injury. Additionally, in order for the rider to maintain a 'relaxed' position, his core muscles will be engaged, but his joints will be 'open'. When a rider continuously uses his biceps muscle in order to give a rein aid, the joints of his shoulders, elbow, wrist and fingers will become tense or locked.  This continuous muscle tension and locked joints translates to the horse as tension in the jaw and poll, and can transfer down the horses neck to his back. When the rider continuously applies his leg, his continuously engaged gluteal muscles and the muscles of his upper thigh and calf  feel 'hard' and uninviting to the horse's back and sides. Likewise, his hip flexors, knees and ankles will not be 'open' and soft. When the rider adds to this a 'driving seat' the horse is more likely to want to drop his back away from all this pressure than to lift his back to meet the rider.  'Open' joints allow the rider to remain in continuous contact with the horse in an elastic and giving way while sitting deeply in the saddle. 'Closed' joints disable the rider's ability to yield and soften immediately when the horse yields and softens. This is why we see so many horses ridden in tension in the dressage arena.
     This brings me to the most fundamental of rider qualities - the rider's seat. I addressed leg and hand frequently in the above paragraphs (since we see so much riding from leg and hand) but in classical dressage, these aids should become refined until they are mere nuances, and the horse responds more to the rider's seat and weight aids. In order to attain this, the rider must have a classically correct seat, as the horse mirror's the rider. Correct rider seat also affects the rider's ability to aid correctly, since a rider who is sitting in a manner that interferes with the biomechanics of movement, will be unable to aid the horse with a well-timed, effective and light aid. I'm not actually going to describe a correct rider seat, since this could be the subject for a short book (I suggest the reader refer to Sylvia Loch's, The Classical Seat, or any number of classical works where correct rider position is always addressed). Instead, I will address two common defects seen in rider position in modern times which adversely affect the training of the horse (as well as looking most inelegant). The most common defect is a collapsed upper body and rounded shoulders. Many of us spend much time slumped over computers or desks, and little time in athletic pursuits. When we slump, we literally 'hang on our ligaments'. In other words, we do not engage the muscles which would hold our spines 'straight' and our bodies erect. Our muscles and ligaments become shortened in the area of our chest, and elongated near our scapula and upper backs, resulting in a slightly (or largely) hunched, round-shouldered posture (and in riding, sometimes a 'turkey neck', as the rider juts his head out at the atlas to counterbalance the weight of his shoulders). When we take this poor posture into our riding, a collapsed rider upper body causes the horse to collapse his 'upper body' (shoulders and forehand). In classical riding, the energy of the rider's upper body is up - and the horse comes with him: the rider's sternum is up, chest open, shoulders relaxed and back, rider thinking 'waist to hands'. This is not physically possible if the rider's shoulders are rounded and the chest 'closed' through poor daily posture.  The rider must first address these issues through exercises on the ground, since attempting to correct them only in the saddle may result in stiff shoulders and back. The next most common defect in rider seat is a collapsed pelvis. This often goes hand in hand with the collapsed upper back. The muscles which hold the pelvis upright are connected to the bottom of the ribcage. If the ribcage is collapsed (due to the collapse of the upper body) the rider does not have the control over his pelvis he needs in order to give a refined seat aid, and the pelvis may even rock forward and backward, tossed about by the movement of the horse's back. Thinking 'waist to hands' engages these muscles in a manner which holds the pelvis upright, but does not result in stiffness in the back. The core muscles are engaged, but the lower back remains entirely elastic. Additionally, the hip joints will open, allowing the rider’s legs to fall naturally. Not only do the above defects inhibit the rider's ability to give a refined aid, they make the rider feel even heavier on the horse's back. Many Warmbloods do a remarkably good job of carrying such a rider, but put our sack of potatoes on a less tolerant, highly sensitive horse, and immediately the horse will hollow his back away from the rider. Ideally, the energy of the rider's lower body should flow down from the pelvis, over the thighs and knees and through the balls of the feet (gravity working), just as the energy of his upper body is up. This allows the rider to adjust his pelvis and seat bones, using the weight of his seat as an aid. These minute, well timed seat aids are quite different from the misguided attempts by some riders to 'drive' their horse with their seat by bearing down on his back. Such efforts will only cause the horse to drop his back away from the discomfort, and some very sensitive horses may even come to a complete stop in protest (or possibly take off running in order to 'escape') .
     I'd like to address very briefly flexions, practiced  by some of the French classical school, and first used by Baucher in the 19th century to supple the horse's jaw and adjust his balance. I do not wish to become involved in the debate over flexions, except to say that they are not necessary to the correct schooling of the horse, and incorrect usage of them can cause problems in the foundation of the horse's schooling. Flexions, as they are practiced in the French tradition, should only be taught by and taught to, rider's with impeccable tact, impeccable timing, and an impeccable rider seat. Attempts by those with less education and less skill and tact often have horrible results, with the rider literally pulling his horse's head this way and that in order to 'supple' him. I've heard instructors ask students, "Well, you've seen a horse reach around to remove a fly from his side, haven't you?" I'd like to respond to that, "Yes, but only when the horse is at a complete standstill, never in motion, and never in an 'on the bit' outline". Since these rein aids are given by the tactless rider at random moments, the horse does not find them comprehensible and may even perceive them as punishment. The result is more front to back riding, the biomechanics of which are opposite to that of the horse who is over-flexed in his spine through the rider's harsh attempts to 'make the horse round' with his hands. Rather than leaning on the hand like the over-flexed horse, the horse who is aided with ill-timed flexions may come to distrust the rider's hand, thus disturbing the contact. Rather than an over-flexed spine, the horse may hollow his back as he lifts his head in response to over-active rider hands.  Personally, I have found that lifting one rein as a correction to a bulging or leaning shoulder, or to raise a dropped poll (if a half halt failed) can be a useful correction, but when it comes to asking the horse to remain relaxed in his jaw and poll, hands that aid in a sympathetic manner (quiet but ‘alive’) never fail to do wonders. As for making the horse’s back supple, only proper gymnastic work practiced over a period of time will actually strengthen and stretch muscles and ligaments. One cannot ‘supple’ the horse's back by pulling on his head any more than I can ‘supple’ my shoulders by pulling on my arm. Even if you feel a momentary ‘give’ in a horse’s ‘stuck’ position, this will not last, as you are not actually stretching the appropriate soft tissue. Oftentimes it is the ribcage which is ‘stuck’. Pulling on the horse’s head and neck do nothing to correct this in-balance and can only hinder long term efforts to straighten the horse. Only tactful riding of well planned exercises has lasting results. My advise: since innumerable master's of horsemanship have schooled horses without these means, I strongly advise rider's not to convince themselves that they are among the few who have the tact to use flexions to advantage, particularly if they have not been schooled in this over a long period of time by someone of this school.
     If all of this sounds rather complicated, that’s because it is. Dressage is not for the faint of heart, nor is it for the impatient or simple minded. One cannot learn dressage from a book, although study to understand theory is absolutely necessary. Once theory is understood, the rider must be able to feel it on the horse and then be able to practice it in schooling the horse. Likewise, when the rider feels something, he must go back to theory to understand what it is he feels. Most importantly,  he needs a well trained eye to tell him when he has ‘got it’. It’s a bit of a circular learning process, and since it’s so easy to misunderstand what one feels or to misinterpret what one reads, instruction from someone who themselves has gone through this process is absolutely necessary. Dressage is one of those disciplines where a little bit of knowledge is a very bad thing. If the horse is unable to comply with a request, the rider should look to himself first: is the rider sitting properly or unintentionally blocking with his body; did the rider ask in a manner the horse can understand (based on previous training); did the rider set up an exercise where the horse was in an optimal position to fulfill the request; most importantly, has the horse been prepared physically (and psychologically) for what was asked. Asking the horse to ‘yield’ to the rider’s aids is a basic part of training. That is precisely why someone with quite a bit of experience and education should oversee the training of the horse - so the rider knows when his request was given with tact, and when he has given it in a way that the horse is unable to comply. If your ‘dressage trainer’ continually blames your horse for a bad attitude - find another one. If your instructor offers you one ‘tool’ after another, but cannot tell you the purpose of what they ask (or you find there is no long term benefit) seek someone with better qualifications. Everyone and their sister offers dressage instruction today. Riders who otherwise have a lot of experience in other disciplines and  possibly some real talent, often consider themselves experts after taking a handful of dressage lessons, or even reading a book or two. The ability to confidently bellow out well appointed phrases may at first impress. Possibly such an instructor may even give helpful flat work lessons to a novice rider. But, the rider/owner should be aware that should they later wish to specialize in dressage, their horse will likely need some amount of re-schooling, and they will likely need to undo some bad habits which they’ve formed. Although the lower levels of dressage should constitute the basic training of every horse, this is not the case today. Be careful before entrusting your dream horse to one of our self-appointed experts. If any harm comes to your horse, their life will go on as usual, but you will be feel devastated and betrayed, and your equine companion may suffer lasting consequences.

Art & Sport: The Path vs. The Prize in Dressage

 www.lisascaglionedressage.com

There has been much debate of late over what constitutes correct horse training and how to recognize when training has crossed the line and become abuse. This is as it should be. A horse is a living creature whose manner of communicating is quite subtle - nearly entirely non-verbal. A horse does not purr or hiss like a cat. He will not bite like a dog when threatened. A horse’s only defense to a threat is to run. When this natural instinct is inhibited because of the presence of a rider on his back and a steel bit in his mouth, this instinct may be expressed in more extreme cases as rearing (horse cannot go forward, so goes up) or bucking (instinct to remove from his back something causing pain). In most cases the horse is slowly habitualized to discomfort, and he expresses this instinct as muscular tension, often accompanied merely by a look on his face of lack of ease. This is not to say that a happy horse never becomes momentarily tense, or a young horse never tests the boundaries, but a horse that habitually exhibits negative behavior or always looks distressed while ridden is most likely in some kind of state of panic or pain. I imagine that most people (if not all), who become involved with horses do so because of a genuine love and appreciation for the subtle beauty of the horse - both physical and spiritual. So how do things go so wrong? Why is there such an outcry today over the well being of some competition horses?
      To put it very simply, personally, I believe there is ‘good’ riding and there is ‘bad’ riding (although it is possible to be an ‘effective’ rider and not be a ‘good’ rider). There are legitimately different schools of riding, and riders would do well to know the differences in orientation between these schools when choosing an instructor. I will go into this more in my next blog, but these differences are real and do have a significant impact on the schooling of the horse. Having said that, I think it is true to say that within each tradition or school, those who are riding ‘well’ within one school have vastly more in common with those who are riding well in a any other school, than they do with  those who ride ‘badly’ amongst peers. Having gotten that out of the way, I would like to address the psychological and even spiritual (if you will humor me) reasons why someone who initially wanted nothing more than to ‘dance with a horse’ may be tempted to engage with horses in a manner that many consider abusive.
     I would like to begin that conversation with a quote, and will momentarily leave in blank parenthesis the subject:   “The first thing a [       ] must learn, if he aims to become an artist, is the art of relaxation. This means detachment, serenity, enjoyment of work for the sake of beauty, unconcern with success or failure, praise or criticism, in this sense, the power of the total concentration of the mind on the senses.”  The subject I have left out is the “rider” and the quote is taken from Udo Burger,  The Way to Perfect Horsemanship. This short quote sums up for me the motivation for a rider who specifically chooses Classical Dressage over any other ‘type’ of Dressage (be it called Modern, Competitive or German). It is the interior motivation which is at heart: a love of the creative process.  Michelangelo is reputed to have said that each piece of marble contained within itself the image that he would later ‘carve’ into it; as if the marble already contained all the inherent beauty that was its by nature, and by forming it, he was merely facilitating the process by which this natural beauty could be developed and manifested outwardly. The Classical rider sees the horse in much the same way. The horse already contains all the beauty which is his by creation. The rider seeks to unite himself with the horse both physically and psychologically in order to lead the horse in a way that allows him even greater expression of what is already his. We should say, the horse does not really need this (all he really wants is to eat grass safely in the company of his mates) but he cooperates with this process quite freely, and even with great pride in his own abilities, if he is led by his rider in a manner that is empathetic, kind and reasonable. The rider’s ‘goal’ here is not an actual goal, but it is similar to the way a Pilgrim views a spiritual journey: it is one of self knowledge, growth and in a way, enlightenment. The Classical rider has much in common with Western mystics and Eastern masters of martial arts in this regard. Curiously, I came to this idea on my own, but was excited to learn later that I was not the first to have thought this. In practical terms, Classical riding is about schooling the horse toward greater collection. In the psychological and spiritual realm, it is about self discovery and the actualization of the creative process. This means there is little incentive to see the horse as an ‘object’ along the way - only the contrary. The reason Classical riders are so particular about developing a correct rider seat is because this artistry can only be actualized if the horse and rider are in complete harmony. In other words: the rider is not an entity balancing upon another entity in an effort to influence it. The rider seeks to merge his center of gravity with the horse’s center of gravity, leading the horse through space much like a dancer leading his partner. The horse must be a willing participant in this, and any amount of force whatsoever (even if it is merely psychological pressure, to say nothing of actual physical force) would pollute this relationship. The horse is developed toward greater balance according to his own talents and abilities, but there is no specific ‘grand prix  (top prize)’ to be aimed for. I am not claiming there are more ‘good’ classical riders than any other school (in fact there are few who truly are Classical), but the motivation to use the horse as an object to achieve a goal is minimized, so the motivation to slip into abusive training methods is also minimized.
     Every one of us loves a good sportsmen, myself included. I good sportsman generally has natural talent which he develops with a single mindedness that most people can only look upon with awe and wonder. When competing, a good sportsman pours every once of energy and will into being the best and trying to win. When they achieve this, they will often graciously acknowledge those who’ve contributed to the attainment of their dream, and might even offer humble encouragement to those who haven’t achieved theirs. In other words, they are able to achieve the goal of ‘being the best’ without negative interference from the Ego, and without considering themselves ‘better‘. Someone who is a good athlete, but not a good sportsman, may be haughty and may even use illegal means to win at any cost. The attainment of the goal of ‘being the best’ has become an expression of Ego. In spiritual terms, Ego is the inclination in man to use his mind, will and energy for self aggrandizement - in other words, to attain power, wealth, or admiration.  The pitfall for equestrian sports is that both the rider and the horse are athletes. One does not compete without the other, but the horse is not an inanimate object like a pair of skis. A skier cannot compete without skis, but if he fails to care for his skis, he may in good conscience dispose of them and simply buy a new pair. If he trains to the point of injuring his own body, we feel sorry for him, but recognize that he is a mature adult making informed decisions about his own priorities in life. From a philosophical point of view, the sport horse is the object which a rider requires in order to attain a very specific goal, such as winning or placing. I should interject here, that many competitive riders love their horses and take impeccable care of them, not only because of their high economic value, but also out of genuine concern for their well being. But, the fact that the horse is the object needed to achieve a coveted goal could be a slippery slope for someone who does not possess natural humility, is not in touch with their innermost motivations, or lacks a high degree of natural empathy. Only sociopaths harm other living beings for the pleasure of doing so. The rest of us do harm to others when we become so focused on our own desires, that we convince ourselves that what we do is absolutely necessary or actually has some positive outcome for all. We generally move incrementally toward destructive behavior. We make one small compromise, followed by another, and in this way are able to pretend that there are no ill effects to our behavior. In fact, we seek reasons why it is all quite justifiable or even somehow good. One only has to watch the nightly news to know that the world is full of such blindness, and to see the extremes this mindset can lead to.
     In spiritual terms, we know a thing by its fruit. In equestrian terms, the horse is always right. In other words, if the horse is consistently ‘unwilling', consistently looks tense and unhappy, grinds its teeth, swishes his tail, kicks the wall, bucks or rears, etc., it is either physically uncomfortable or in pain, psychologically tense or scared, or all of this. Were a human being to be compressed by sharp and painful objects into a position unnatural for the human body and held there over time, we would call this torture, even if he didn‘t utter a cry in protest. I am in no way saying that competitive riding is a bad thing. It can be quite beautiful and exciting. I am merely saying that the goal of attaining prizes presents some psychological and spiritual challenges that every rider should be aware of, myself included. I am also suggesting that the sport of dressage might be more popular if there were no controversies. Even those who don’t ride can recognize the difference between a tense horse with a strained or pained look on it’s face (ridden through force), and one (in self-carriage) working its heart out to please his rider and maybe even showing off to spectators. I am certainly not suggesting that someone should be censured because of the look on their horse’s face, but I do think that all trainers and horse owners should be intimately involved in the conversation about how to safeguard the well being of competition horses (or all horses for that matter, because the ill effects of human ambition on horses is not reserved to those who compete). I do understand that it would be in poor taste for a competitive rider to name names. But, it only helps dressage as a sport when everyone has the courage to be involved in the conversation about: what constitutes abuse, how to recognize it, how to prevent it, and especially how to assure that riders are properly educated horsemen and women - in the classical sense. A good competitive rider is also an artist. A classical rider is also an athlete. A horse is first and foremost a horse. By remembering that love of riding and a unique appreciation for the inherent beauty and power of  horses is at the heart of all equestrian activity, we could do much to work together to improve the lives of some of our mute equine friends, who add such a wealth of benefit to our lives, and without whom there would surely be an empty spot unfillable by any other living being.

My Apprenticeship with Sylvia Loch, part 2

For part 1, see entry from June 2012                                                  www.lisascaglionedressage.com

The Spiral of Learning

     I traveled to Scotland alone this time. Sylvia had a newly renovated apartment for rent at Eden Hall which I would stay in. It had lovely views from the large sitting room overlooking the hillside toward the River Tweed. The kitchen was fully equipped and I planned to save money by eating in. I thought I would spend my free time reading and walking the picturesque hills behind Eden Hall, but was a bit concerned I’d feel somewhat alienated in a foreign country by myself. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
     My first day there Sylvia dropped me off in Kelso so I could watch the Borders Festival of the Horse, event trials on the grounds of Floors Castle. We were to meet up there in the afternoon. I observed with interest the jumping and dressage, but actually had the most fascinating time once Sylvia arrived when we went together into the sponsors tent and met two of Sylvia’s friends, both veterans from WWII and former Cavalry officers. These two very lively gentlemen first insisted on seating me in front of the best view, then procured for me the wine of my choice and proceeded to dazzle me with stories about the good old days, when horsemen were horsemen. They lamented the heaviness of today’s competition horses, commenting with wonder why anyone would willingly train a horse to be so heavy in the hand. They explained that in ‘their day’ (when horses were not yet bred to be super athletes) an officer’s life might be dependent on his horse; his horse must be responsive, light and handy, and each officer trained his own horse. In between the two world wars when Cavalry officers were the only competitors in equestrian events, these men competed in the most varied trials - dressage, steeple chasing, show jumping and even racing. They rode the same mounts for various events, showing the versatility of their horse’s training, as well as their own skill. They wistfully shared that something had been lost in the equestrian arts, and I felt within myself a mournful recognition that once these men were gone, even the memory of it would vanish forever.
    The following day I began my lessons. I was scheduled to take two back to back lessons - one on Sylvia’s schoolmaster Prazer, a 15 yo Lusitano stallion whom I had ridden on my last trip, and one on a 17 h. Irish Draught gelding named Boomer, who was primarily hacked by his owner. Sylvia’s teaching style is very sympathetic and encouraging. She instructs everyone from the most advanced student of dressage to pony clubbers trying to improve basic skills (if they bring their own horse). She explains with passion and patience both the how to and the why of whatever is being worked on and will exclaim with encouragement at the smallest improvement.  This time however, was different. As she explained it, she wanted people to see me  ride and to know I was a classical rider. She was picky about every detail of my position, and watched the horses intently for feedback from them on the correctness of my aids. Sylvia seemed a bit apologetic for being such a taskmaster on my first day, but this is exactly what I had come for. After all, hadn’t I felt both awe and envy before the two Cavalry officers the day before? Surely they didn’t realize such mastery through focusing on what their horse needed to ‘do’ rather than on what they first must accomplish within themselves?  
     My next lesson on Prazer, Sylvia asked me to ride with all four reins of the double bridle in one hand. In order to do this, one must ride primarily with the seat, with the rein aids reduced to a mere squeeze of a finger or a slight turn of the wrist. I actually found it much easier to ride this day - riding circles, serpentines, turns on the haunches - all fairly smooth and accurate. The point of the exercise had worked - I did know how to use my seat, now I needed to focus on doing so. Sylvia asked me to visualize gravity carrying down from my core over the top of my thighs and knees to the balls of my feet. This image helped me to deepen my seat and use it more effectively, particularly as we worked on collected exercises with Prazer. Prazer is the consummate gentleman. He will try with all earnestness to discern what is being asked of him, but is so sensitive to the aids, he may end up doing levade when you thought you were asking for Passage!
     With Boomer, the main focus during our lessons was to help him step under himself with energetic hind legs, so he could learn not to travel so much on his forehand. This seemed to improve quite a bit from lesson to lesson, and Sylvia was always pleased to see at the end of each ride that Boomer had quite a bit of foam on his lips from a happy and relaxed mouth. During my time there, I introduced Boomer to basic lateral work and counter canter, which I found he was more than willing to try. I was told that at one time he had a bad attitude about being ridden. He must have come a long way since then, because I found him accommodating and easy going, as long as you showed him some appreciation for his good will.
     When I wasn’t taking lessons, I spent a good part of the day reading. Sylvia has a vast library of literature from the oldest treatises to modern titles, with many books that are out of print. I spent hours every day reading and taking notes, starting with the out of print books and making a reading list of others so I could purchase them later. Sylvia also asked me to read the draft of the new book she was writing on balance and the aids, and requested I comment in the margins. I was grateful for the privilege and initially surprised that someone so knowledgeable was interested in my opinion. Having come to know her a bit, I later realized why she was so keen on my input - she wanted the book to be as beneficial to her readers as possible, and was genuinely open to any feedback that would facilitate this. The course of my lessons followed the chapters of the book, which I found immensely helpful both from the point of view of a student and as an instructor. This allowed me to read and consider in depth each element of riding and then to gain the precise feel during my lessons. I plan to offer shorter courses at my farm, similarly combining theory with mounted lessons, so riders can learn both by understanding and by feel. When one of these two elements of learning is missing, the process becomes disjointed. There are many good works on how to ride and how to train a horse, but putting in words what is an unspoken art is always imperfect. Likewise, taking lessons without understanding the principles of how to train a horse leads to confusion. Listening to the horse is the fundamental method by which we learn, but even for this we need an ‘interpreter’ if we are to really understand.
     My course with Sylvia also included theory lessons. These one on one conversations took numerous forms - we would discuss her book, my lessons, or watch video together which she critiqued for me. Sometimes Sylvia would quiz me and sometimes I would ask questions, with each answer from Sylvia in depth enough to fill an entire magazine article. I hadn’t entered this deeply into any subject since doing immersion courses in graduate school. It felt as if I were peeling away the layers of an onion. I would peel away one entire layer thinking I had really accomplished something, only to find that beneath was an even deeper layer. I suppose all learning is this way, or even life itself. We never come to the end of learning, but only enter deeper and deeper - like a never ending spiral, often coming back to the point at which we started, but at a whole new level. I think at its heart, this is what dressage is all about. It’s not just about the training of the horse, it’s also about our own journey through life - this never ending spiral.
     In the end, this may be the most important thing I took away - an affirmation of my own ability to participate in the creative processes within me through my engagement with this noble creature, the horse. In addition to all this, I felt I had also made a true friend in Sylvia. We sometimes meet someone whose experiences and ideas about life resonate so much with our own, there’s an immediate understanding and trust. I realized this must have been why I related so well to Sylvia’s books and videos from the very beginning. I had sensed this was someone whom I could trust without question. It wasn’t all about her - it was about my horse. It was about all horses, and their happiness and well being, and our ability to participate in the beauty of their natures through this thing we call Dressage.

MY APPRENTICESHIP WITH SYLVIA LOCH

www.lisascaglionedressage.com

Part 1 - The Path to the Beginning

     I’m sure many of us can remember that one teacher from high school or that one college professor who’s passion for the subject and personal charisma were so compelling that they enlivened a spark within us that has never since completely extinguished. Sometimes it’s not the teacher’s love for their craft or area of expertise that’s inspiring, but their ability to see us -that is to know us; and an innate ability on their part to understand how to bring us to new heights of self knowledge, to be a facilitator for the development of talents or personal desires which we ourselves may not have even known were there. When we encounter someone like this our lives can be completely transformed, as our own innate creativity is enlivened. I’ve had the unique fortune to have found just such a person in Sylvia Loch.
     When I first became interested in Dressage I was fortunate to have the opportunity to co-own a Grand Prix schoolmaster that no one else seemed to want, probably due to his age and breeding (he was a 20 yo. Arab-Appaloosa Cross). I lessoned regularly with the best instructors in my area, as well as with well known clinicians. I owe a debt of gratitude for all that I learned, but I craved for more. I had several young horses I was training and I quickly learned that when one of my horses seemed unable to ‘learn’ something new, either I was inadvertently blocking my horse with my own body, my aids were slightly mistimed, or I had simply asked the horse for something it was not yet physically ready for. I became obsessed with perfecting a correct seat  and the coordination of my aids. I found that when I was correct, my horses were able to follow my lead, much like a sensitive dance partner.
     In clinics, the focus was mostly on ‘making’ my horse do this or that. Instruction was often contradictory from one clinician to the next, and when I’d ask questions to clarify my understanding, I received no real answers.I began reading and watching video, and soon came across Sylvia Loch. Her love and respect for horses were obvious. She explained with logic and clarity what seemed too complicated to put into words. She used mental images that help the rider visualize the biomechanics of balance. Unedited video of her schooling younger horses as well as her schoolmasters, showed me not just what the ideal looked like, but addressed the training issues that actually came up in my own riding. Later when I began to teach, I gained much from watching the segments of her lessons with more novice riders, and I found myself using exercises and images directly from her videos in my own lessons.
     I decided I must go and study with her in person, and I contacted her and made arrangements. I have to say, if I anticipated finally gaining clarification to all the questions that constantly swirled in my mind, and if I had hoped to refine and advance my riding, the reality far exceeded expectation. It was like a door had been opened, beyond which was clarity. The muddled bits of information in my head were becoming connected. With Sylvia's two schoolmasters as 'co-teachers', I began to comprehend and to 'feel' what the underlying principles of dressage were. After I returned home, I would ride in a clinic with one of our Olympians, and found it no longer mattered that the instructor was such a talented rider that they were unable to explain precisely in words the how or why of what they were hoping to see in my lesson. I could examine the exercise or correction myself and now knew what its purpose was based on what I had learned from Sylvia. Not only that, but I began to examine everything through the filter of what I had learned in Scotland. The horse is always right, and as the years went by I realized that what Sylvia taught always turned out to be correct for my horses. They will always tell you if you have taught them in a way that they can understand and that has lasting benefit, or if you are attempting to force them into a machine-like compliance.
     I think of dressage almost as a means of training myself, rather than my horse. When I have mastered myself (my own ego), then I can engage with my horse in a way that allows me to be a facilitator for my horse’s own expression of his natural beauty. But, I am also a mass of physical and spiritual energy sitting on top of another mass of physical and spiritual energy (10 times my size). The biomechanics of a human sitting on a quadriped are also technical. If you add to this the asymmetries inherent in all living beings, and the differences of temperament and conformation in horses and people,  there becomes an infinite number of minute adjustments to the baseline of the fundamental principles - dressage takes quite a bit of technical skill. True, it is not until the technical skill becomes internalized to the point that we merely ‘are’ and no longer think of ‘how to be’ that we are really riding, but the technical skill must be there first. I decided I needed to return to Scotland for more study.
     I noticed that Sylvia had just begun a Classical Instructors Certification Program through CRC. I wrote to her and asked her if she would consider accepting me. My deepest hope was not only to gain this knowledge and skill for myself, but to pass it on to others - like a precious heirloom handed down through generations. I think every one of us who becomes involved with horses does so because of the horse’s noble inner beauty and deeply intuitive and emotive nature. Owners long to bond with their horses and to express this bond by being united with them in ‘dance’ . When I attend competitions and see some competitors attempting to ride horses through domination and aggressive use of hands and legs, I realize these kind and serious horse owners may find they have no one to learn from. I wanted to do for others what Sylvia had done for me, and hopefully help a few horses along the way.
     Sylvia responded positively to my aspirations, and said she was inclined to want to help me, but with the caveat that it is quite a commitment to take on a new apprentice. She wanted to watch the recent video I sent of myself and would make a final decision.  I think I must have been like a schoolgirl waiting for a college admissions letter, checking my e-mail daily with bated breath. Finally she got back with me - not only was the answer a yes, it was an unequivocally enthusiastic yes! I should interject, I am now middle aged and more or less immune to the vicissitudes of praise, but I have to say, I was literally walking on a cloud for weeks. When I came down, I realized with some sobriety that I too now had a serious obligation. For Sylvia to devote so much time and energy for my education and development, she too hoped to gain something - a vehicle to pass on what she herself had labored to learn so the art of dressage may remain alive long after its masters have left us. I felt quite a sense of responsibility and took seriously the confidence she placed in me. 

Part 2 posted July 3rd, 2012