the maestro

"Equestrian art is the perfect understanding and harmony between horse and rider."
--Nuno Oliveira
Enraptured, I watched in amazement, and could only feel that this must be the epitome, the ultimate expression of equestrian artistry -- its complete embodiment. Nuno Oliviera (1925 – 1989) personifies effortless elegance in this rare footage from his earlier years. Horse and rider are seamlessly inseparable – he transcends their duality, creating a palpable demonstration of oneness. Where does one being end and the other begin?
The creation which results is it seems greater than either could achieve alone – the horse has become a willing partner, allowing the man to experience a physicality impossible without his mount. And while a horse’s movements at liberty are undeniably beautiful, somehow the rider is able to draw out and reveal to us unimagined potentials in the horse. Their synergy positively takes our breath away.
The caption of the video “travail d'un cheval” or “work with a horse” describes not a choreographed artistic performance but rather the patient, precise and utterly consistent process of communication by a master training a pupil. The addition of the wonderfully complementary musical track may enhance the aesthetic impact, yet as I watch again in silence I find it even more magical. This masterful rider seems able to place the center of himself lower than his physical body, somewhere inside the horse – creating the effect of the mythical centaur.
What is he actually doing, I feel desperate to understand -- he is leading and following at the same time! How is he able to do this? I sense an utter absence of muscular willfulness, an infinite patience and what must be great sensitivity to every nuance of the horse’s response. And, sure enough, I perceive not just the rider’s spine but his whole head and torso being used as a tool with energy directed both upwards and downwards, and often in both directions at the same time. As I watch I feel a vague kinesthetic resonance in myself – we all must have had certain experiences -- pure and unfettered, at some point before we began accumulating our many habits of movement and reaction.
The riding is really just too exquisite – I soften inside, release my preoccupation with understanding how, and surrender to the sheer ecstasy of simply knowing that someone has lived who experienced this depth of understanding and this relationship with horses.
Apparently, as he worked, Maestro Oliviera often listened to arias from the operas he so loved – the Italian masters Verdi or Puccini. Watch the footage above with and without the soundtrack and you will find all the qualities of musical expression even in silence: lyricism, drama, the dynamic shaping of a phrase through accumulation of energy and its release, rhythm and tempo, and of course harmony, and even – harmonic dissonance! Do you sense it?Click HERE to view another much shorter video clip of this incredible master.

a moving stillness

-->

When did I begin to pay attention to what being a “quiet” rider means? It seems fairly recent, but seeds are always sown well ahead of the bloom. Of course, I have heard the quality praised over and over again – this rider has a quiet seat, this one quiet hands, this one a quiet presence -- but with so much else to learn and to “do,” apparently it took some time before I was ready to reflect on what quiet really means – to me, and to my horse.

Late August, Gail Field’s annual Centered Riding Clinic out at Lord Stirling Stable, my only written notes state: “DO NOTHING, learn to surrender to the horse. First do nothing – any tension or holding tells the horse something.” Hummmmm.

Early October, ah yes, there was that particularly vivid experience at Mio Morales’ weekend intensive Alexander Technique workshop. Sitting “still” in our seats, we practiced what became a kind of meditation – we gently and repeatedly brought our attention to the possibility of ease in our head/neck area. The ease ebbed and flowed with our awareness, and I was freshly reminded how much subtle movement is really taking place as we simply sit on our chairs. How interesting and refreshing it was to turn down the extraneous “noise” of excess tension and unnecessary movement. Hummmmm.

Next, a wonderful article by Elizabeth Reese, “The Alexander Technique and Classical Equitation” really got me thinking about what I have been telling my horse as I sometimes fidget around, trying to find just the right organization of myself as I ride. A few choice quotes:

* “. . . any action that the rider does make can [should] be both intentional and momentary.”

* “We must first find a place of quiet listening in order to act. Without listening, all of our actions are really reactions.”

* “The rider needs to discover a neutral place where she or he is not interfering with or disrupting the horse’s balance.”

November, Aikido Winter Camp in Florida: the image of Shibata Sensei’s “calm-before-the-storm” way of being. We quickly came to know that without any discernible movement or clue he could in a split second somehow draw an unsuspecting attacker into the center of the action. This produced a profound sense of aliveness on the mat -- magical in a way. You never knew where he would appear and you never quite knew what to expect. He captured our attention, with his quietness. His movements seemed to carry even more impact as they emerged out of a calm stillness. Hummmmm.

And periodically throughout the autumn I visited philosophical realms with “Dressage in the Fourth Dimension” written by Dr. Sherry Ackerman, a professor of philosophy who is also a dressage rider. An excerpt on sacred geometry:

“All movement begins with its antithesis, immobility. The dot, in ancient cosmologies, represented universal consciousness – the source of all things . . . in . . . dressage, we participate in the dot through the fully engaged halt. We sit, perfectly motionless in poised collection . . . as long as we do not disturb the collection, the horse remains prepared . . . for instantaneous movement in any direction . . . we sit in a stream of consciousness: the motion of immobility.”

So, lately when I get on a horse, or step onto the aikido mat, or find myself in a crowded subway or on a congested New York City street, I am very interested in the component of stillness within the activity -- how to be still without becoming tense. How does my presence affect my horse, or my training partners on the mat? Do others become more manageable or react differently to me when I stay quietly in touch with my center? Where is the neutral place where harmony begins? Hummmmm.

Shown above, Annelie sits quietly connected to the canter of one of the largest horses I have seen her ride, an enormous Cleveland Bay she rode at his owners request at the Centered Riding Clinic at Thorncroft Therapeutic Riding Center. She recently attempted to describe to me the sense of stillness that is possible on a beautifully moving horse; apparently you feel that you are doing nothing, but in reality there is a lot going on!

a thing of beauty

My process in learning to ride has eerily paralleled my beginning years of aikido training. Idealism held sway over practical matters, sometimes resulting in rude awakenings. Tears often took me off the mat in those first years, but not once did I ever consider giving up on my training. For my first riding lesson, I was placed on a 17-hand Percheron cross who decided to get rid of me midway through the hour, and while shaken, I was quite certain that it would take more than that to keep me from learning to ride horses.

Now in my third year of riding I am very thankful that my background and idealism led me early on to the pedagogy of Centered Riding® where I have received incredible benefits from learning its principles. However, I have become aware that my understanding of some of the basic concepts of equitation is lacking. It would be as if studying the Alexander Technique could produce a fabulous violinist without ever taking violin lessons, or that someone could learn the art of aikido without mastering ikkyo, nikkyo, sankyo, etc. -- the techniques through which the art is taught.

So recently, in order to continue my equestrian education, I have been applying myself to the study of “The Principles of Riding” – The Official Instruction Handbook of the German National Equestrian Federation. Initially, I believed that this book might be a bit dry, and would lack the integrated and creative approach I find so appealing in the Centered Riding® methods. To the contrary, I am currently captivated as I find answers to many of my questions using this clear, time-honored and systematic approach. Now that I have accumulated some riding experience of my own, I seem finally ready for a good dose of technical information.

Just as it has taken many years of often strenuous and repetitious aikido training to allow me to experience the finesse and expression I craved from the very beginning, I sense that the aesthetic qualities which draw me to the equestrian arts are also quite far from my grasp and require years of dedicated practice to even begin to approach. Interestingly, this doesn’t seem to curb my enthusiasm in the least – a feeling not experienced since those early years in aikido.

At the end of one of my favorite sections of the book entitled ‘The Co-ordination of the Aids,’ which builds on the previous detailed descriptions of rein, leg and seat aids, I was very pleased to find the final paragraph which emphatically states: “When a rider has developed the seat as described, it is easily recognized for its artistic and aesthetic beauty.” (emphasis mine)

Enjoy the video above which demonstrates great artistry through nearly invisible technique in the partnership of Steffen Peters and Ravel.