fascinating rhythm

The giant metronome in the sky – that’s how I came to think of the incessant and precisely regular sound. It would have been maddening, except for the fact that it seemed to pulse at a tempo perfectly suited to the trotting gait of the horse I was riding that evening -- another lovely autumn night in the outdoor ring. Clear and not too cold, it was apparently also perfect for the local marching band practicing somewhere off in the distance, using an amplified electronic metronome to keep them in step.

Well, of course, I knew rhythm to be important in riding and horse training but that evening I had a very tangible experience of the effect of regularity, repetition and consistency on both my horse and myself. I found it impossible to keep from posting the trot to the beat of the metronome. So after my initial resistance, thinking ‘when will that infernal pounding stop!?’ I surrendered and noticed how happily Knickers seemed to be ticking along, dropping his head slightly, blowing out and shaking himself like a big dog, quickly settling down to trot easily around the ring. We both became somewhat mesmerized and I found that soon I hadn’t a care in the world.

The experience stayed with me and in my musician’s heart I began to ponder the significance of rhythm – a concept I had come to take for granted throughout many years of musical training. I started questioning some of my musical friends, particularly those who play jazz and Latin music, I pulled out all of my various dressage and horse training books and began to think about rhythm – in music and in horse riding, soon finding more complexity than I first imagined.

Rhythm is a vibrational phenomenon, and it exists at many levels and across time scales. Some say that our relationship to rhythm is established in our mother’s womb as we are literally immersed in the beating of her heart. Throughout our lives we experience layer upon layer of rhythms and cycles from the rising and setting of the sun, the phases of the moon, and the turning of the seasons. From the micro to the macro level, rhythm makes time apparent to us.

So, rhythm includes periodicity and regularity, contains the element of tempo, can create shape, is predictable -- the feeling of knowing what is coming next allows for relaxation. I have the rhythm of my work day, my week, the rhythm of an hour’s aikido class or a weekend intensive seminar. These days I also have the regular structure of a riding lesson – a similar progression from preparation, warm up, through gradually more demanding movements, including periods of greater and lesser intensity, ending with a winding down to walk on a long rein, halt and dismount. Like a musical phrase, a song or a symphony, a short story or a novel – each has a certain form and tempo, a rhythmic framework.

Our rhythmic sense should be completely natural and inherent, yet not everyone seems to be able to express it equally well, to “tap into it,” to “go with the flow.” If rhythm is so closely connected to relaxation, then it certainly makes sense that tension is the enemy of rhythm. Any method for releasing excess tension, whether through the Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, meditation or constructive rest, allows us more access to this quality we all seem to crave: the pulse which has the ability to mesmerize and enthrall and which in turn puts us even further at ease.

The subject is deep and broad and all-encompassing and its application, especially in horse riding and training, so integral, I am quite certain that “I do not know what I do not know” – you know what I mean -- but it is so irresistibly fascinating that it must be explored.

And, what could seemingly illustrate rhythm more perfectly than – tap dancing! Ring in the New Year with this over-the-top number as Eleanor Powell dances to…what else – Fascinatin' Rhythm! Fortunately, even the low resolution film quality cannot disguise the precision of her body mechanics. Note her ability to isolate body parts, the easy poise of her head and if you wonder how she can move and lift her legs without disturbing her overall coordination – it’s the psoas (core strength) muscle. Enjoy!

tuning the body

As I began to research the history of a movement art which has excited my imagination, the roots of what is today known as Rhythmic Gymnastics proved to be intertwined with many aspects of my personal past: artistic gymnastics, music and dance of course, but more surprisingly I found that it grew from musical pedagogies such as Dalcroze Eurythmics, Orff and Kodaly methods and the Eurythmy developed by Rudolf Steiner. Further connection is made to even more esoteric influences such as the Gurdjieff Movements and various types of sacred dance considered a form of yoga in India, created to act out events of a cosmic nature.

The idea that the human body can mirror a cosmic perfection, precisely trained and tuned to express universal principles is quite fascinating. Exposure to the systems and ideas noted above, as well as practical immersion in the discoveries of F.M. Alexander has given me a taste for the potential of movement practices to expand self-knowledge, consciousness and awareness. These are also the aspects of aikido training which continue to enthrall – the pure physics involved as well as the opportunity to open my perspective and refine the use of myself.

Initially I was somewhat surprised at the depth of my obsession with this incredible art form, called a sport by some – but as I delved into its development it began to make sense, as it grew from various methods designed to teach the principles of music through expressive movement, or gymnastic exercizes to develop grace, flexibility and good posture. If only I had known about this when I was a young gymnast I thought -- however the first world championship was held in Budapest in 1963 and its first Olympic appearance was not until 1984 -- so my childhood gymnastics career was premature.

The artist who has completely captured my attention is Anna Bessonova, still apparently reaching her peak at the ripe old age of 25 (most others stop competing by their early twenties). She is a world super-star as you will soon discover if you take even a cursory look on the internet, and her statuesque power, dramatic range and breathtaking precision are utterly captivating. Yes, these are superhuman feats she is executing, but we can all learn something kinesthetically by enjoying her artistry.

Anna Bessonova is shown above competing with the hoop, one of the five (yes count them, five) different apparatus which must be mastered. By viewing close to one hundred of her performances, I have chosen a favorite routine in each discipline, should you care to observe more of her expressive range: the ball, the clubs, the ribbon, and the rope. In aikido we use wooden weapons to extend and clarify our body movements and our “open-handed” techniques; I find her self-mastery awe inspiring, and when you factor in the external objects whose laws she must also incorporate, it’s almost too much to comprehend!

the tao of silk

Ten years ago, a close friend of mine took a trip to Japan with a group of aikido students led by Yamada Sensei, and ever since I have been hearing tales of an aikido teacher they encountered there. Apparently all of the women students were particularly smitten with Endo Sensei, recognizing in him an elegance, subtlety, and sophistication of technique sometimes lacking in the martial arts. His teaching style is also somewhat uncommon – he lets everyone feel what he is doing, by moving around the mat and working with each student. The consensus opinion seemed to be – he’s so smooth – you really have to feel it!

Over the years I didn’t pay much attention to her periodic ravings -- I felt she certainly must be exaggerating, carried away by the exoticism of Japan. Finally I decided to take a look for myself and found the video above. My first impression was a very visceral response to the magically soft and enveloping quality of the interaction he creates with his uke. Somehow smooth doesn’t fully describe it – silken, might come closer.

In addition to its luxurious sheen, softness and luminosity, silk also has incredible tensile strength and structural integrity, as well as insulating properties and the ability to return to shape even if stretched up to 25% of its original length. Silk is apparently not only seductively soft, it’s strong and resilient as well.

Watching Endo Sensei over and over again, I began to sense how powerful his softness must feel to those receiving his techniques. There is really no discernible “moment of contact” as he draws his attacker into his own sphere. We experience it in good aikido training as an undertow, a feeling of the rug being pulled from under us, being sucked into a vortex. He certainly retains his structural integrity – he remains quietly imperturbable. From an Alexander Technique perspective he doesn’t interfere in the least with his own ease of coordination as he initiates movement from his center. Seductive (from Latin, literally ‘to lead astray’) is also another way to look at the quality of his movement.

Even more fascinating to scientists than the silk from silkworms is the silk produced by spiders. Visit the link to see an amazing Spider Silk Tapestry woven in Madagascar from the drag-line silk of a species of golden orb-weaving spider. According to it’s creators it’s a very unusual material: “we never broke a single strand, yet the tapestry is as soft as cashmere.”“For its weight, spider silk is stronger than steel, but—unlike steel—it can stretch up to 40% of its normal length.” from the exhibit description at the American Museum of Natural History.

nothing doing

As soon as I finished telling my student that the Alexander Technique does not prescribe specific exercises, I realized that he might be very interested in something called “constructive rest.” Sometimes called an “Alexander Lie-Down” and often used by AT teachers, it came originally from the world of Ideokinesis.

Constructive rest, in its purest form -- simply lying down once or twice a day for 5-20 minutes in the described position and allowing gravity to do the work of releasing holding patterns and excess tension can be quite revealing, refreshing and restorative. The addition of simple suggestions, such as to allow the neck to be free, can enhance the procedure, as long as we do not add a component of trying to accomplish something -- nothing doing!

Basic procedure:

“Lie on your back, bend your knees to about 90 degrees, and place your feet on the floor in line with your hip sockets, 12 to 16 inches from your buttocks. Be careful not to flatten or exaggerate the curves in either your lumbar (lower back) or cervical (neck) spine. Rest your hands and forearms on your rib cage or on your pelvis. In this position, you don't need to perform any muscular action. Gravity will do the work. Shift your awareness to the support of your bones. Begin by sensing the weight of your bones sinking down toward the floor. Take note of any part of your skeleton that feels as though it is suspended, any place where the muscular contraction prevents the bones from surrendering to the pull of gravity. Gradually, the distribution of weight will start to feel increasingly even throughout your body.” --Adapted from Liz Koch, the psoas expert

Try it for a few minutes a day and see what you notice. I’ve found constructive rest useful in bringing me a more refined awareness of my back and the space behind me (horse riders, you understand the importance of that!) and also for showing me the positive effects of gravity while sensing the skeleton as the body’s active support (in contrast to our habitual patterns which usually attempt to hold the body with muscular effort).

Turns out, my catchy title is also the name of the last book of poetry by Cid Corman, Nothing/Doing, in which I discovered this apropos piece:

just resting

letting the

breezes make

something of

a body

The concept of non-doing, so foreign to our goal and achievement-oriented culture, is expressed in the Japanese calligraphy ”mu” above: “Nothingness is not an absence of being; it is the fullness of existence that brings forth all things. One meaning of MU is not to be captivated or beguiled by this or that; the way of Zen is found within the interplay of "no" and "yes," "nothingness" and "fullness."

turning inside out

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“Look same outside, different inside . . .” Sugano Sensei has been known to say, as he attempts to convey to us that there is a lot more to aikido than meets the eye!

Last weekend, as we once again gathered together for the annual USAF Winter Camp sponsored by Florida Aikikai, we could not have been blessed with three more unique master teachers (shihan) than Yamada Sensei, Sugano Sensei and Shibata Sensei. As the three days of training unfolded and one class blended into two or three or even more each day, I was struck not only by the obvious similarities of technique but particularly by the individuality of each Sensei’s style -- both teaching style and “personality” -- all so different, but all with a larger-than-life quality shining through as they demonstrated aikido’s underlying principles to us in a seemingly endless array of variations. It was a banquet of beautiful aikido created using high-quality ingredients and I wanted to devour all of it.

I chuckled to myself, remembering Sugano Sensei’s favorite phrase. We might be effecting a tolerable imitation of their demonstration but how thoroughly did we really understand the interaction, how often were we able to embody the movement? Even when we managed to look pretty darn good, what was happening on the inside? These are questions I kept asking myself as one class after another reinforced the same themes.

My personal impressions: Yamada Sensei – large sweeping movements, classicism and dynamism; Sugano Sensei – explosive timing, precision and philosophy; and Shibata Sensei - extraordinary improvisation, bending time and setting the tempo at will, as the various ukes became the instruments for his jazz riffs on technique. Each Sensei fully embodies the principles of nature which under lie the art and that seems to allow them tremendous freedom of expression and spontaneity.

Hour after hour we stepped back out on the mats, savoring all that our Senseis were offering us, not wanting to miss an opportunity to receive it directly from them. I resorted alternately to icing my knee and visiting the Jacuzzi, eating extra protein, falling into bed early, waking up each morning ready for more. By Sunday afternoon we had passed beyond fatigue to that place where training continues somehow, after class has ended.

Our three master teachers who manifest aikido so differently are ironically, I reflected, actually “different outside, same inside!”

As usual, a truly amazing array of aikidoists attended the Florida Winter Camp this year and one new friend from California – an eye surgeon who loves to surf – described to me how photographers capture some of those incredible surfing pictures: the hard way, by hanging out, floating in the waves, possibly getting “turned inside out” in the process of getting the shots! The atmospheric photo shown above was discovered as I “surfed” the web for inspiration on “inside out.”

the weaker sex

Entertaining as it may be, this film clip from the 1930’s actually demonstrates beautifully the fundamental principles of the martial arts. O’Sensei synthesized elements of ju-jitsu, judo and traditional swordsmanship, and incorporated his spiritual outlook and practices into what he called the art of aikido.

Ms. May Whitley has style and grace -- balance, timing and proper distance, she uses her lowered center of gravity, she works with whatever attack comes her way -- all the while holding her purse and keeping her hair in place. I love her matter-of-fact approach. She is not full of ego or grand gestures, but has a kind of quiet and natural composure which can be “dis-arming” in and of itself. She also demonstrates a refreshing economy and simplicity of movement.

As a senior woman on the aikido mat I often have to find creative ways to adapt myself to my male training partners who sometimes assume that they are entitled to boss me around, for any number of reasons, which you can probably well-imagine even in these terribly enlightened times in which men and women are supposed to be living!

Usually I choose to let my actions speak louder than words -- the iron-fist-in-the-velvet-glove kind of approach, meaning that I focus, soften and clarify my technique, leaving no room for superfluous comments. Aikido is really an art where women may excel and the feminine, receptive, flexible and intuitive parts of our natures serve us well – if we allow them expression and trust in their power.

Make no mistake, proper aikido training will make you “strong”, but it is not external, muscular force which confers its power. Timing, distance, calmness, expanded awareness, softness on the outside with reduced internal tension all allow access to the expression of contained inner energy – these are the qualities which set it apart from common forms of physical training and exercize and which also make it an art.

Proper aikido training will also I believe strengthen in each of us the aspect we are lacking in our masculine/feminine balance. Soft strength, power without force, subtlety of timing, expanded awareness – these are qualities I value and why women are particularly valuable as aikidoists, when we begin to be able to express the powerful qualities of “the weaker sex.”

This one is for Aleksandra, of course not because she belongs to the weaker sex, but because I promised to share this video with her almost a year ago. Aleks happens to be the most enthusiastic aikido student I have ever had the pleasure to know. She is not only energetic, she is truly passionate about learning and extremely open and receptive. Her infectious enthusiasm always brings a breath of fresh air to the dojo.

tally ho with Balimo™

What a great opportunity I thought when I noticed the clinic announcement on the Equestrian Education Systems (EES) website early last spring – and it was! For the past week or so I have been digesting some of the rich experience of attending the “Seat Symposium” which was held at Gleneden Dressage in Bedford, New York and conducted by Eckart Meyners, German sports physiologist and professor at the Institute for Leisure Research, Play and Movement Education (sounds like fun!) at the University of Luneburg, Germany.

Mr. Meyners is also the inventor of the Balance in Motion or “Balimo™” chair, a fascinating balance and flexibility training tool. However, I discovered over the course of the weekend that learning to use the Balimo chair is only a small part of his method for working with riders. Drawing upon the work of Moshé Feldenkrais he uses deceptively simple movement sequences to re-program habitual patterns of body use. The process creates more fluid, supple and responsive riders – evidenced both in the improved movement of the horse under saddle and the increased harmony between rider and horse.

Having now experienced Mr. Meyners’ work in person, his books are proving evermore useful and inspiring. Here is a passage which so captured my attention that I missed my subway stop! It’s another piece of the puzzle which has challenged me – how to feel grounded and stable atop the horse:

“The rider’s inner eye . . . should feel the weight of the head traveling down through the center of the body, gaining weight from the body as it goes downward. When this weight reaches the rider’s pelvis, it splits and continues down both legs and out the heels. While the body weight is traveling downward due to gravity’s force, the rider appears to be carrying her upper body upright and flexible, like a puppet with strings in the clouds. Meanwhile the pelvis is following the motion of the horse.”

As the above information sinks in, I am finding that my experience of standing on the earth is changing, as is my sense of connection to the ground while riding. In addition to paying attention to the poise of my head, I also notice that its weight is quite tangible – I call it ‘heavy in a good way.’ I don't have to interfere with the poise of my head to allow its weight to sink down through my bones, all the way to my feet, through my heels, down into the earth. A circuit is established, like plugging in a light, because as the weight flows down, an energy also rises back up through me. Paradoxically, the acceptance of the weight of the head, allows the bones to fulfill their function of support, yet also confers a sense of buoyancy and ease. It is intriguing to feel light and heavy at the same time!

Upcoming posts here will share more of the invaluable insights of Eckart Meyners.
The Balimo™ or “Balance in Motion” chair is shown above with lines drawn to illustrate the type of movements possible while seated on it (virtually limitless planes of motion). Even a short period of use brought substantially increased awareness of the “seat” bones, balance (or lack of it!) and movement potential of the whole pelvis.

beautiful, positive, dynamic

Yamada Sensei paused during his Tuesday morning class at the United States Aikido Federation Summer Camp (taking place this week at Stockton College near Atlantic City) to share with us what he feels are the most important aspects of the art.

Here is my interpretation of what he said:
It was only moderately surprising to me to hear him say that, first of all and most importantly, Aikido must be beautiful. That’s my Sensei, I thought – and he has been for nearly 25 years. The grace and symmetry of the movements and a fascination with the interaction have certainly been primary for me, with interest in the martial application developing gradually and a bit later. Now I see that the quality of beauty is not separate from the martial aspect. The elegance is pure physics, probably much the same as when mathematicians refer to certain proofs as “elegant.” Economy and purity of motion produce martial effectiveness.

Aikido must also be positive and this Yamada Sensei demonstrated for us very clearly. By contrasting proper extension, expansion and forward movement with the opposite effects of pulling in with the arms or moving backwards, he looked for a moment like a mere mortal rather than the larger-than-life figure we are used to experiencing on the mat.

Finally he reminded us that Aikido must be dynamic. He emphasized that each technique must have a memorable beginning and a clear ending. As a musician, I know the importance of dynamic variation, and as it happened, Sensei gave the example of a Beethoven symphony he had been listening to that morning – it begins with a strong statement and it has a shape. A trip to the dictionary reminded me that the term “dynamic” relates to energy or to objects in motion, is characterized by continuous change (emphasis mine) and is marked by intensity and vigor.

Although English is not Yamada Sensei’s native language, I believe he succinctly and completely described his Aikido – I can only imagine how eloquent his thoughts might be in Japanese.

The video clip above is from a series of instructional tapes by Yamada Sensei with Donovan Waite taking ukemi. It fully illustrates the beautiful, positive and dynamic qualities of the art of Aikido.

axis mundi

Also known as cosmic axis, world axis, world pillar and center of the world – this is a symbol found in throughout all cultures. It describes the “turning point of the world: line through the earth's center around which the universe revolves.”

“The human body can express the symbol of world axis. Some of the more abstract Tree of Life representations, such as the Sefirot in Kabbalism and in the Chakra system recognized by Hinduism and Buddhism, merge with the concept of the human body as a pillar between heaven and earth. Disciplines such as Yoga and Tai Chi begin from the premise of the human body as axis mundi. . . . World religions regard the body itself as a temple and prayer as a column uniting earth to heaven. . . . . The Renaissance image known as the Vitruvian Man represented a symbolic and mathematical exploration of the human form as world axis.” --Wikipedia

ax·is
1: a straight line about which a body or a geometric figure rotates or may be supposed to rotate
2: the second vertebra of the neck on which the head and first vertebra turn as on a pivot
3: a main line of direction, motion, growth, or extension
4: a point or continuum on which something centers - an axis of . . . power

Recently a number of experiences have reinforced my perception of my own axis. A Chi Kung class for aikidoists with Robert Tangora left me with a tangible new impression of my center as part of an energy channel. We used the image of a column of light which passed through the top of our heads, through our bodies straight down into the earth, all the while the same column of light streamed upwards. When we were able to keep the image clearly in our minds, our partners found us impossibly strong and virtually immoveable.

When I started learning to ride in earnest last autumn, I excitedly told an Alexander Technique colleague that expert riders direct energy not only up through the spine but downwards as well, and they do both at the same time. They use the spine like an integrated tool extending it in both directions from their center. He found this somewhat difficult to imagine, as did I, although my eyes were already telling me it was true.

Now my lessons with several different Centered Riding instructors all seem to have a common theme – and the theme has to do with learning to use both ends of the spine – the whole spine, and portions of the spine! It also has to do with isolating what the pelvis is doing from what the upper body is doing – even though the activity is integrated and the parts are interdependent. The tricky part is that in fact, when I "try" to accomplish any of the above directly I do not have much success. Once again I find that the whole is much greater than the sum of the parts -- so how shall I proceed from here?

A recent Alexander Technique lesson with Tommy Thompson in Cambridge, MA gave me a kind of correction to course and reminded me that attention to the "means whereby" would bring me much closer to the subtlety, integration and effectiveness of movement which is necessary in riding.

The beautiful photo above of the legendary ballerina Alexandra Danilova graphically illustrates the human body organized around the vertical axis.

swing time

The video above communicates volumes about universal principles of body mechanics: Tiger Woods’ golf swing captured exquisitely in slow motion. The aesthetic choices of the filmmaker underscore the classicism of the pure form and remind us why this athlete has achieved an almost mythic status. For me, the primary aesthetic factor is the sheer perfection of his “use of self.” The movement is undeniably beautiful, and it is also mesmerizing . . . I just never seem to tire of watching it.

I can’t seem to resist writing about it either: the still, stable central axis, the grounding which continues in polarity to the raising of his arms, the spiral initiated from the center of the body (pelvis) which is then made manifest, until you see it reaching from the tip of the toe all the way around to the end of the golf club. The slow motion allows us to absorb some of the peaceful expression on his face and the easy quality in his neck area. And do you have any doubt about the power unleashed here?

In looking for other instances of this kind of perfect melding of form and function which have the power to captivate, a variety come to mind – the sensitive and supple dressage rider creating balance and harmony with the horse, an aikido master effortlessly moving through multiple attackers, moments of brilliance during the NBA playoffs, “my” New York hawks soaring nearby and heading out over Central Park, a favorite image of my daughter which captures her in a carefree and buoyant moment. And of course music does this too – a Latin groove, a coloratura’s shimmering riff, a Chopin mazurka, Bill Evans, or a plaintive and haunting solo English horn.

Well what do these disparate performances have in common? Maybe we could call it a lack of separation between the “performer” and the activity. It’s not easy to describe – but you probably feel it too.

“To swing is when an individual player or ensemble performs in such a rhythmically coordinated way as to command a visceral response from the listener; an irresistible gravitational buoyancy that defies mere verbal definition.” (emphasis mine)

--from the Jazz in America website

Maybe that’s what I’m getting at. As the tune says, “it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing . . .”