Ever since last summer, the practitioners and followers of dressage have been debating–here and elsewhere–what some consider esoteric points about dressage training and judging. Well, we’re continuing that conversation with three articles this week that, we hope, will show it’s not just a debate between a few eggheads about the horse’s neck position. It’s a debate that really could have implications for nearly all horse sports.
On p. 32, Dietrich von Hopffgarten and Col. Christian Carde, two extremely accomplished and respected dressage trainers, respond to Forums by Tiffany Tyler and Lita Dove, who responded to Birgit Popp’s Forum in September. And on p. 28, Dove reports on the USDF Symposium conducted by Klaus Balkenhol, who emphasized the importance of slow, correct and classical training in making dressage–or any kind of performance–horses.
Col. Carde insightfully observes that dressage is at a transformation point. In Europe, it’s moved into the edge of the big time. And the competition is so tight (primarily between the Germans and the Dutch, but with another half-dozen countries close behind) that riders have sought to find advantages in the rules’ margins.
And in those margins they’ve found the concepts of brilliance, power and even tension. Some riders and judges are suggesting that brilliance is the sought-after byproduct of tension, a phase you must work through to achieve extensions or piaffes worth a 9 or even a 10. Many more–including Balkenhol–are responding that tension shows you’ve done something wrong and that you must go back.
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It’s hard to understand why dressage, which even means “training,” should reward tension. I can think of few other horse sports where tension, or anxiety, is encouraged or condoned in training or competition. Certainly not in hunters or the Western disciplines. Or jumpers–tension prevents response to aids, causing stiff backs and faults. It’s of no use in the three phases of eventing, to get a good score or for safety. Drivers don’t want tense horses–it compromises teamwork and isn’t safe. Good race horses are eager, pumped up, but if they’re tense, they can’t relax, and that will cost them the race.
The only exceptions are gaited horses and in-hand Arabians, and is that where dressage wants to go? Do riders, trainers and judges want to turn their sport’s working, generous horses into useless equine spectacles, just like dog shows have done to dozens of dog breeds?
Consider these questions: What should “dressage” do for horses? What’s its purpose as a sport? How can judges reward performances at odds with the rules? Should judges’ marks be rewarding training, certain breeds, or inherited movement? Is it really just a dog show, or is it a test of athletic training and development?
Two of the world’s top Grand Prix horses epitomize this question. On the one hand, you have the German star Weltall, truly an extraordinary physical specimen, capable of astounding feats of movement. But only a professional man could ride him. Only men like his rider, Martin Schaudt, have the unique combination of sheer strength, balance and technique to control this horse.
Brentina, on the other hand, is the symbol of harmony, softness and self-carriage, and relaxed confidence in herself, her rider, and her understanding of the test’s tasks. I’m sure no one else could ride her as beautifully as Debbie McDonald, but she looks as if anyone could. And isn’t that what dressage–or “training” a horse for any sport–is meant to be about? Isn’t any kind of horse training supposed to be about developing, physically and mentally, horses that are accomplished and confident (not anxious) in their jobs and lives? I sure think so.
