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