(“If we don’t have letters, how will they know it’s dressage?”)

Maybe you heard Jimmy Kimmel at this spring’s White House Correspondents Dinner. He was speaking of “the old days” before FaceBook and Twitter—back, as he said, “when a tweet was just something Barbara Walters fed her dog.” . . . That was just too good a story not to repeat, but now to the business at hand.

A few additional comments about “western dressage”: Recently I posted this photoshopped picture on FB, and since it could be interpreted as an arrogant dismissal of the whole genre, I just (as my hero Richard Milhous Nixon often said) want to make one thing perfectly clear. I have absolutely nothing against western riding, and I am pleased (as punch) whenever someone wants to use our approach to horses’ training to improve whatever their own goals are.

On the flipside, I know a bunch of “western guys” who use their skills to start future dressage horses with a fine foundation that we can proceed with. “Riding is riding,” it’s been said, and I am grateful whenever anyone can contribute to teaching a horse to be sane, willing, and interested in the things I want to teach him.

Back in the day at an indoor arena in Connecticut, I encountered a gaggle of horse ladies. They’d endlessly pack around their arena in their hunt seat saddles until one would chirp brightly, “Now let’s go Western,” at which point they would continue on in exactly the same manner but with the reins in one hand. Did they “get it?” They obviously did not! Nor do riders at breed-specific shows who enter the dressage as though it’s just another costume class.

Nor, unfortunately, do folks who want to do dressage “while preserving the traditions and way of going of the western horse.” By my reckoning that’s impossible. I can support whole heartedly their adoption of a methodology which favors progressive development of their horses’ minds and bodies, the orderliness of patterns, and the idea that well-chosen exercises can improve their horses. So far, so good.

But now: the crux of the matter. I am admittedly stuffy about this, and I’m not a tiny bit apologetic. It all comes down to what IS dressage?

A dear friend of mine who’d been invited to do a demo between chukkers for a Florida polo club this past spring wanted “the letters” to be set up on the field. A compatriot opined they weren’t needed, to which our heroine replied,c

So is dressage the letters and the white breeches? Is it the tests, Training 1 through Grand Prix Special? Is it words like “self carriage,” “suppleness,” and “engagement”? No, to me, the essence is something more profound than any of that. In counterpoint I’ve heard argued that since the word “dressage” literally means “training,” according to that definition, what western riders are performing IS dressage. But here’s the rub: unless the ocabulary terms are paired with the quintessential, historically-defined feelings which they describe, the classical meanings are lost. Put a curb bit in a horse’s mouth, and you can bet he’ll be pretty darn light. But is he through? Is he connected? Does the pyramidal progression to which we subscribe remain intact? To gain useful benefits. for western riders it doesn’t necessarily have to. But after investing forty-some years in trying to figure out this dressage thing; as a judge and teacher having been inoculated with the (nearly) sacred duty to seek to enhance without blemishing what Nature has given the horse; and to find great pleasure and comfort when the celestial spheres ring true when we get it right, I am distressed to see it trivialized. Even if these things aren’t universally desired in all disciplines, it’s what we DO.

We “dressage dudes” certainly hold no patent on understanding horses or looking out for their best interests. And it’s fine with me that some western riders (and elsewhere some Walking Horse riders) want to use the patterns of our dressage tests. I just don’t want to have to judge them. (According to the rules, only sanctioned USEF dressage judges may do that.) Western dressage goals may be equally laudable. They just aren’t my goals. And I’d really be a lot happier if they’d call it something else, too. I understand why the vintners from the Champagne region of France object to California sparkling wine being labeled “champagne.” In reality, it is made by la methode champenoise, and loyal Frenchmen want you to remember the difference.

It’s not that I’m an elitist. [Editor’s note: In actuality, yes, he is.] But, it’s hard enough to make novice riders and schooling show attendees discover the true essence of our sport without confusing them with another whole paradigm that doesn’t even pretend to honor it. If they have to call it western dressage, could they please put it in quotes, print it in pink, or use a font with flashing yellow and black caution LEDS? Just don’t mix it up with the real thing. The real thing may not be any better, but it is something different and something special to me. Rabbi jokes are funny. Unless you’re the rabbi. Then, rightly or wrongly, you’d like a little more acknowledgement of what you’ve devoted your life to do.

At left, Bill on a cutting horse in Eagle, ID, in the late ‘80s or early ‘90s.