Dressage : Art or Science ?

Dressage: Art or Science?

Horses are heavy and clumsy creatures. They are always standing on my feet. It may be that I put them in the wrong place, but I suspect it is because they just don’t care where they put their hooves. This is in marked contrast to Elephants that, except when they are very angry, apparently never stand on anyone. One should be grateful for this, as they are if anything, heavier than most horses. This lack of hoof concern is a problem and one that is not being properly addressed. Horses obviously need more training in this regard.

If you ask any horse enthusiast what horse training is, they will probably tell you it is Dressage, and that dressage is the training of the horse in its natural movements. Indeed they will often maintain that the word itself means ‘training’, (of course from the old French’Drecier’ which meant to setup or arrange something, from which we get the expressions to dress ‘a room’, or ‘a set’, or indeed ‘oneself’). In this regard I think they are confusing the means to the end, and the end itself, or if you will, putting the cart before the horse. (‘before’ in this case meaning ‘more important than’ rather than the traditional ‘in front of’). Surely, I argue with them, Dressage is the final result of the training, and not the training itself. In the same way as Ballet is the culmination of the training, the abilty, and the artistic expression that goes into the performance of it, and not just the preparations. The performance is everything.

Anyway I digress. The problem is the inability of horses to avoid the feet of others. I think this failure in training is the result of a cultural change in the emphasises of Dressage. Modern Dressage has descended from the custom of arranging (or setting up) of performances to demonstrate the military ability of Chevaliers. (Like the Russian Mayday demonstrations of military might the older of us remember from Cold War Moscow in the 60’s and 70’s.)

These performances originally showed how schooled horses could be manipulated only by the legs and bums of their riders, freeing the hands for killing the enemy. They could go forward, they could go backward and they could stop, seemingly by magic. They could also, with military thoughoughness and forethought, turn quickly in an emergency and accelerate away with maximum impulsion. The horse was bred for agility and lightness. It was a Latin entertainment, enjoyed by the French, the Spanish and to a certain extent the Italians. The Anglo-Saxon world had better things to do with their horses at this time, and that was literally to put them before their carts. Gradually more elements were added to this spectacle. They included movements to demonstrate the carriage pulling gaits, and even a popular gymnastic section with spontaneous air leaps and prances. With the Latin temperament the emphasis was on lightness. Indeed even today the French regard their culture as light, ‘Léger’, compared to what they see as the heavy and ponderous Teutonic nature. To the Latin, often the humour, the panache and the ‘Spectacle’, was as important as being correct in the detail. The performance was everything.

“Nil point”

However after Mr Benz liberated horses from their cart-work, the Anglo Saxons set about improving the dressage of their cart horses. The airs were lost, and the remainder was organised into a correct, militaristic and inflexible system. Lightness of movement was now dissected, defined, graded, and compulsory. Each individual task and expression judged against a theoretical benchmark, and even the heaviest horse could play. Bring on the entrechat of the Percheron. The natural gait trained through the un-natural process. If dressage is the end result does the training justify it,or if the training is the primary goal does its method justify it ?

Imagine if you would the same principles applied instead to impressionist painting. Invented by the French, but given a post-war Teutonic makeover. For landscape Inter 1, Cezanne would be judged on his brushwork, his composition, his choice of colours, and although parts of his paintings might be given an 8, surely other parts would lack collection and get a miserable 4. Van Gough would never get past Novice and in any case would probably be eliminated as unsound. Seurat would ironically get no points at all. The great German painters (I have momentarily forgotten their names) would find their technical skills more clearly recognised, and in high demand. Eventually painters would succeed on their technical skills and not their artistic talent. Over time the best artists would be regarded as those whose paintings got the most points, with perhaps the sum of the parts being greater than the whole.

The time will come to reverse the change in culture. The spectacle will be everything, and we will have more Léger. The horses will probably still stand on my feet but it won’t hurt as much.