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A Horse called Horse
We're on our way back, my father and I, my horse and his horse.
We left this morning and we'll arrive at dusk It's been over a year now that
Horse is my horse. That's right, I didn't want to him to have
a name so I named him Horse. And now, I think, I know why.
Horse was a gift from my father We came to get him from a friend of my father's
that lives in this Tuscan valley Horse lived amongst a pack of horses, but
I noticed him immediately. He had something particular about him, I knew
that he was my horse. When Ariane told me his story, that he wasn't
able to communicate with the other horses, that he was alone, I understood how wonderful,
even more so, that it could be if the two of us were together.
We looked at each other amongst the other horses and that's when I felt that he had
chosen me. This is where our story begins.
A few years ago, we received a horse of about 13 years of age, a real beauty, big, strong
and fit. When we set him free, he ran like mad, until, at certain point, he met up with
the other horses. He saw them and surprisingly nothing happened...
Usually, horses sniff one another, a dance of "who's who" begins and then they proceed
to put each other into a pecking order, there is a lot of movement, kicking and, bucking.
Instead, when he saw these other horses, he turned around and ran in the other direction,
he ran straight into an opposite corner, a closed corner, and stayed there.
It was very difficult because he wouldn't eat, wouldn't every go to the other horses.
He was scared of getting close to them, as if he wasn't even a horse.
He was a horse that didn't know he was a horse.
Maybe it was because of this that I decided to call him Horse.
He needed to know who he was because he had forgotten.
Because he had spent most of his life alone, inside a box in a stable.
Horse, like all horses, hates closed spaces and must have suffered so much, so much that
he had forgotten who he was. But we were going be together, close for a
whole year. It was as if we were two horses that went around, free. I understood that
he, like all horses, needed space. To have lots of land around him, to eat and sleep
where and whenever he wanted. Choose his friends. Instead, it is easier for us just to confine
a horse to a box. They get used to it, but it is the worst thing
that can happen to him. This is the fate of most horses. ....
They are born to their mother in a box and then they are weaned, separated and then continue
to live in a box. They never really have any social interaction. This is why that when
they become adults they don't really know their own language, they have no idea of how
to interact with others, no chance at a balanced and natural life.
It takes them a long time to remember, as they have been "humanized" and are out of
sync with their true selves. This is knowledge that is very important:
We can provide a horse with the security of living in a pack, the comfort of living as
a horse: only then can they live well in all senses, mentally, emotionally and physically.
They can play amongst themselves, with us and only then does our relationship become
a source of wellbeing for both. Like this, we have a companion that wants
to be with us and is healthy in every sense.
This is what I have learned from Ariane, to ask for little things from a horse. To always
remember that what he does with me, he does for me. The most important thing is to be
together, trusting each other. I am going back to Ariane and the other friends now.
It has been more than a year since we've seen each other. But I remember, as if it were
yesterday, the first time I played with Horse. We were beginning to talk to each other. He
was very patient with me. And when I spoke to him in the wrong way, he never got angry.
With his ears he made me understand that it wasn't clear what I wanted from him.
Little by little, I began to understand how sensitive he was and how my directions were
still too demanding.
"A horse can feel a fly sitting on his back" my instructor told me and showed me how to
use the long rope. Small movements are enough for a horse, enough to make them understand
what is wanted from them. The movement of the rope is irritating and he retreats. When
he responds, he needs to be rewarded. Stroking a horse is the best reward. After a while,
I understood that I was the one in charge. He had accepted my role as a head of the pack.
The fact that he had begun to follow me like a puppy seemed incredible to me. And then
finally, the day came when I could ride him. For a horse, who considers us as predators,
to allow a person to mount him is a leap of faith. Underneath however, fear and distrust
are still there. It was amazing, I had never ridden a horse
before. And this was my horse, it was Horse. The instructor said that Horse could feel
my every movement and that I needed to concentrate. He said that Horse could even feel my thoughts
through his body. Because that's the way that horses talk.
Edwin Wittwer is a natural equitation instructor. Horses have learned to listen to him.
Many have passed through his hands. Horses with problems of every sort, from slaughterhouse
escapees to racecourse survivors
Now the right side of the brain is working and he's relying only on his instinct.
This one is terrified of just about everything that moves.
Edwin is using a plastic bag, a fluttering object, found everywhere and often the cause
of sudden terror in a horse. He is helping the horse beat his own phobia,
using a rhythmic in and out of the line of fear.
I try to do it, up until the moment in which he can accept me.
Because everything that we do on one side, we must do it on the other side.
Edwin shows them the unjustified origin of the fear with his body.
A play of awareness on both sides of the horse. Even in the areas where the sightlines of
the animal are scarce. And there, beyond a horse's sightlines, that
is where the terror lies.
Again the horse licks its lips, a sign that it is starting to understand
Let's see if I can get a bit of rhythm going without him feeling the need to run away.
A bit of noise... Let's go the other way again. I'll make a
little noise, a bit more noise, a bit more.... He has now accepted a higher level of noise
completely. I can make noise but he only goes a little
faster, not a lot. When the right side of the brain kicks in,
I don't stop, as long as he doesn't stop.
The horse licks its lips. This means: "I understand, lets reach an agreement."
Correct interpretation of this sign allows for communication with the horse and the completion
of the right action. Horse language, therefore, does exists
The knowledge of this language has led to the development of natural equitation, a method
that has rapidly taken root in Italy in the last decade.
Everything started approximately 20 years ago in America when a few horse experts began
to interpret the language of horses with amazing results.
Wild horses became tame and docile within hours. Practices and experiences drawn from
the First Nations' People, Plains Indians and their capacity to observe the behaviour
of wild packs. Many today, (in Italy too), are putting into practice what they have learned.
The fundamental tool is kindness. Because a wild horse lives in terror of man, rough
manners and taming methods will do nothing but reinforce fear and distrust.
In the past, horses were exclusively used for work, transport and military means. The
were needed, there was no time for extra attention. In Italy, very knowledgeable horse people
exist, however as often happens, the principle of doing less to obtain more is usually the
goal.
In the heart of Italy, between the provinces of Tuscany and Lazio live the butteri.
Able horsemen that can boast a past going back thousands of years, right back to the
time of the Etruscans. The name buttero itself comes from the Greek
boutes which means cowherd. Herds were taken care of by the butteri.
Because of its pond-like nature, the entire Maremma territory lent itself very well to
pasture (grazing). The butteri drove the herds across the long
horn?. Strong and dangerous animals. The maremma horse was a valuable working tool.
A nimble, sure-footed animal with a strong character, taming methods were of equally
strong nature. The buttero's priority was to make sure that
his horse lent himself exclusively to the work to be done at hand.
There was no time to cultivate a relationship, much less risk losing control of this precious
means of transport in certain situations. The horse had to move without hesitation amongst
bulls, cows and long, sharp horns, some longer than one metre.
Obedience was ensured by pain infliction via controlling bits and spurs.
Today there are few butteri left, most of which have become summer sports rider entertainers.
They re-enact moments from the merca when the calves were branded with the owners brand.
With the help of long sticks called pungoli the butteri first separate the bull from the
herd and then they proceed to isolate the calves.
One by one, the calves are forced to enter into the ring. Here we see the courage, ability
and toughness of the buttero. The maremma calf at one year is already well
developed, sure-footed and strong thanks to the free life it has led until now, inside
the ring it is an unyielding and dangerous animal.
Today is only a re-enactment. In the past, the calf would have been held down, tied and
branded by fire with the branding iron. Once the merca has finished, the butteri begin
the festivities by exhibiting their horsemanship skills and prowess.
At first this seems like a virtuous back step, however on closer observation, we realise
that there is something else going on. The bit provides the control but actually the
action is entirely based on pain. A bit can exert pressure up to as much as
500 kg, corresponding directly to the tirgemino nerve which, in a horse's anatomy, is felt
outwardly, thereby sending excruciating pain. When this pain is accompanied by spur action,
we can imagine what an animal, sensitive enough to feel a fly, must feel.
Control over the horse, however, for a buttero, was fundamental.
This was shown even as entertainment, for example, during the calf branding festivities.
Today, the butteri's taming methods have changed, the relationship between man and horse no
longer carries the iron harshness of the past. Also because it is no longer necessary.
The modern day buttero limits himself to keeping tradition alive through the shows they put
on. Sporting demonstrations and performances where the key element is the horse.
Like in racing events. Events like those held in Piazza di Siena,
Rome, which are renowned the world over. The ultimate exhibition of a horse's strength
and beauty. A beauty exalted in the human imagination
which has made an animal into an aesthetic symbol, a prop to man's own vanity.
To the point where a cavaliere, that is, a person who owns and sits on a horse, has become
synonymous with nobility and good manners. As if the horse had consented its virtue to
man. A virtue man would otherwise not have. Jumping competitions are an evident expression
of strength and beauty.
And the horse?
A horse, to raise a man, must compensate the impact with the ground to the tune of 4 tonnes,
his forepart must bend to touch his heels. Every jump is a trauma.
Because a horse, by nature, avoids jumping, avoids doing something that might damage him.
And here we have those who have a profound understanding and knowledge of horses.
One could not, in fact, obtain such an extreme performance in any other way.
During warm up, many use the bit to sensitize the horse's mouth.
In a handful of seconds, months, years of preparation are at stake. The horse must obey
the commands. A mouth responsive to pain will produce the
desired effect with the minimum of pressure. Weak points are reinforced by the shanks.
Para stinchi protect the forelegs and prevent the horse from hurting itself with its hind
leg horseshoes when galloping in preparation for the jump.
Horses waiting to enter the ring are harnessed like gladiators.
All this to bring the horse to what it would never do naturally: jump a wall that is 2
meters or more in height. Two meters and 5 cm.
Two meters and 15. Some refuse.
Two meters and 25. Some should refuse.
This time it went well. Two meters and 25.
May the best rider win. The triumph of man over horse.
A classic scene. An inspiring scene invoked by many monumental
statues. Like the one of Marcus Aurelius on the Campodoglio
Square in Rome. The calm of an emperor atop raging nature,
tamed, a grimacing mouth of wrath. A violent expression, identical to that found
on a child's rocking horse. A toy and the apotheosis of the emperor demonstrate
the same human interpretation of the horse. The frightening image of a dragon, very far
from that of a tranquil herbivore, from a horse's reality.
An emperor which mounts his roaring steed by the same token with which a child mounts
her rocking horse. Brought together by the extraordinary transformation
of what a horse should be. We have reinvented the horse.
A recurring iconography that we are used to. Present in all public spaces.
A wild and legendary being, a strength of nature.
We fix on the image of the mighty horse which exalts man's role, capable of taming such
might. In reality, knowing horses takes one in a
completely different direction.
By now we are nearly there. I hear the neighing of the other horses.
Perhaps they've heard us. Its time to brush Horse.
I could even make a few braids like those that my friend Nell likes.
She taught me how to do them. She was born here amongst the horses, all the horses know
her and speak with her.
Growing up with horses in a place where natural equitation is practised is an important experience.
One learns to communicate in silence with the horse, using a language made up of signs
and physical contact. Attention and caresses deepen reciprocal knowledge.
Nell has learned responsibility and prudence towards her horse.
She knows that the preying instinct could always show itself.
But she also knows that, thanks to the profound relationship with her horse, reactionary instinct
will always be preceded by clear warning signals. A silent pact, based on trust.
Nell is entrusted with showing the other children how to behave with the horses.
How, first and foremost, one must patiently observe.
And how the less one expects, the more one receives.
The game, in this way becomes something serious. Relations and play are the basis of natural
equitation. A way that involves child and adult worlds
alike.
The working day often begins in one dimension, seemingly naive, of play.
This is a way to release tension, to put oneself in touch with the horse.
It is also a means to facilitate an informal coming together of people from various backgrounds
who do not know each other. It stimulates group spirit.
Above all, its purpose is to ensure that no one takes themselves too seriously.
A horse is there, together with another horse, not doing anything but using their tails to
rid themselves of a fly. This is horse time, the natural life of a horse, when the horse
is at peace. I believe this time is important for the horse,
to be together with us, without being asked to do anything, just being together.
Because often, we go to our horse with an objective or a goal in mind. Today I want
to do this, afterwards that and to finish, this.
We only have so much time available and we think that all of this must be done by the
horse in that time. Every so often, if we could be part of it,
part of a horse's day, not only would the horse respect us, but even more, his collaboration
will be greater.
No longer is it a wild animal to be tamed, but an animal with which we collaborate.
That doesn't mean that the horse becomes a playmate or a means to spiritual evolution.
It remains exactly what it is, a herbivore. The challenge is to be able to see it in its
reality, without our attributes.
Ok, good and leave the rope. Ok. I don't kick, I don't used rhythmic pressure
with my feet. I only use constant pressure, I embrace the horse with my feet.
First phase to get going: energy. Second: embrace. Third: give yourself a little rhythm.
Fourth: Give a little rhythm to the backside of the horse.
To stop, same thing. First, I relax myself. If the horse does not relax together with
you, raise the reins with two fingers. Third phase: If the horse has not stopped
in this way, close all your hand with a bit more tension, like this.
If the horse does not stop like this, after 2, 3, 4 seconds, leave the reins and begin
to do 1, 2, and 3. This is the lateral dip, where you are saying, "stop with me, flex
your neck". And now, those who want to, may trot, but
only for 10 meters, After 10 meters, relax yourself, raise the rope and walk.
For whomever was used to the traditional methods of equitation, riding without reins, without
a bit across a horse's mouth, without decisive stimulus, is like learning a new language.
The responsibility was his, the pace of gait his.... for me, in some way, this was all
fruit of the training and therefore my continuous request for obedience from the horse.
That's not it.
Every so often I still find it difficult to tell him what I want, probably because I still
don't know how to dose out directions the way I should. Like before, I turned and then
wasn't able to get going again.
I need to ask for little, to give lots of rest. We're becoming friends.
At the end of the day, the horses return freely to the rest of the pack.
They take up their naturally preferred rhythms and habits.
It is observing them in situations like these that one can decode their language.
Their sensitive areas can be identified. Points on their body which, when lightly touched,
stimulate the horse into a precise reaction.
Innate mechanisms, transmitted from mother to foal in the very first few minutes of birth.
Just born and already the struggle begins... It has to stand up on its legs, in order to
feed on its mother's ***. This must be done before he consumes all of
his energy. Nature has given him but an hour, after which
he will no longer be able to get up. Horses, like all prey, must be able to move
quickly, remove themselves, escape. Not coincidently, all horses are born at night.
By daybreak they must be standing, ready to move.
By night horses see much better than during the day.
A nocturnal animal, the horse is much more active during the night than during the day,
in complete contrast with human habits.
As a result of artificial insemination, the foal was too big for the mother and if it
hadn't been for the help of the veterinarians, it would never have been born, or able to
feed. Destined to become a racehorse.
The first signs come from the mother.
She touches the key parts/points of the foal which will become the base of their code of
communication. We are able to measure the sensibility of
a horse by observing its reaction. The lightest touch is enough to receive an
answer. This is the subtle level that makes up their
language. Every horse has its sensitive points and will
react as if a musical instrument. A sensitivity that is far-reaching, right
through to its hoof.
In this case, because the horse is not wearing a horseshoe, he can feel every inch of the
ground he touches. For a child, this is a constant discovery,
the wondrous possibility to move half a tonne simply by applying a little pressure.
This doesn't mean that a horse has pulsations that correspond to a precise action.
This means that a horse is far more aware and sensitive than we think.
An awareness based on its environment and the necessity to survive.
This foal, which is now two weeks old, will survive, and will be a racehorse.
Its muscular predisposition makes it evident that this thoroughbred was purposely destined
to race in the hippodromes.
A little over two years from their birth, these horses are harnessed for the race.
Very young horses whose bones and cartilage are still forming.
But they have been bred to run. Their career is a lightening one, similar
to that of a diva, lasting two or three years at the most.
Much less than that of a professional athlete.
Horses should not usually be ridden before they reach three years of age, yet these are
subjected to taming and training from 18 months, so that they can be raced at two years.
What happens then? Some, those more fortunate, continue to race
without having to win at all costs. The majority finish up at the slaughterhouse,
some in stables, others are recycled in the various palii in the cittá d'arte (cities
of art). The thrill of expressing this kind of power
would fascinate anyone. The horse will run, that is its nature, but
perhaps it is only running from us.
The Fountain of the Unicorns in Ronciglione. This city, in the heart of Lazio, is one of
the many in Italy where a palio is held. Within this carnival, an ancient tradition
lives on. The races of the Berber horses.
Horses without jockeys represent nine competing districts.
Each one with its coat of arms and traditional costume.
The horse that reaches the finishing post first after a mad 1000 metre race, wins the
palio. This race dates back to 1500 and was apparently
a tradition carried out by the Etruscans. The race is run on asphalt by horses that
are shoed and with the constant risk of slipping and falling.
The show is very popular and is attended by hoards of people.
Indeed, this breathtaking horserace stirs up intense emotions.
The horse is but an means. A tourist attraction, to develop tourism.
As we have seen however, the relationship with the horse is changing.
The natural equitation method consents a closeness to the animal in much better ways.
This doesn't mean that who puts into practice these methods will have better performance
or will have more than others. With this technique it is very difficult to
will a horse into jumping a wall of 2 meters but the satisfaction obtained is different,
perhaps even more. We are, in any case, always asking for something.
If it were up to the horse it would probably not engage much with humans.
We both listen. Now, we both listen. I listen to him, look at him, especially straight in
the eyes and he listens to me, above all when I'm silent. Because horse language is not
like that made up of the dots and commas like the one we use. Therefore, the more silence
there is, the better we are able to enter into the language of nature.
One's able to put oneself in sync with the communication channel of the horse. Able to
perceive all that makes up their emotions, sensations. And we able to create a transparent
line which unites the language that we learn, a corporal language, based on pressure. Something
we would have naturally but because of the way we live our daily lives, we lose.
Without a doubt they reflect what we are. Although it may seem absurd, I have learnt
that my breath becomes his breath. The moment in which the handling becomes difficult,
if you are able to lower your breath, thereby not let the emotion and consequentially, anger
to take over, magically he will shut down. That is, lower his energy and he will be able
to be more, much more tranquil.
When I go to my horse now, I go with a different consciousness.
I am more conscious of what I am doing. Before I was afraid.
I would get close to him, he would feel my fear and our whole relationship was interrupted
by this emotion. There was no relationship, there was only emotion.
Now instead, when I go to Totò, I look at him, always, this is now the thing that unites
us -- I look at him and I am no longer afraid of him. I know that he is happy to see me, as I am
happy to see him. I know that he is happy to go for a walk with me.
And after I got into this method, this world of natural equitation, I changed, my consciousness,
my knowledge of horses and my emotions. I am learning to handle them in a way that enables
a dialogue with her, notwithstanding her youth, and she's become a much more balanced horse,
this is a journey of growth for both of us.
You can do anything, even without reins and above all it can be done together, without
any kind of coercion.
I used to just jump in the saddle before, I wasn't building a relationship on the ground,
I wasn't looking at what was important for him but only at what was important for me.
So this is a radical approach, and the relationship is completely different.
You become a better person. Because the horse is our teacher, we define him because he teaches
us to
be patient, to forgive, understand and better our relationships with people as well.
He has acquired more trust and is serene with the other horses, something he wasn't before.
And then, I think that the sight speaks for itself.
Regain trust: this is the objective of this long, hard work. Otherwise it would not be
possible to convince a claustrophobic animal like a horse to get into the back of a van
by itself.
Its not only technique but heart and soul, getting in touch with that which is inside of us.
A potential that we all have.
This important day for me and Horse is coming to an end.
We've arrived, where everything began. And now that I'm about to make my choice,
I'm a little scared. Even if my dad says that I made the right
choice. Everyone is waiting for me. They are getting
ready to accompany me to Horse. The instructor who taught me the very first
things about horses is waiting. It will be a party for Horse and I want him to look good, clean and shiny.
Its not just a whim, like dad says. I want this to be the last thing I do for
him: a long, lovely caress just the way I know he likes it.
Yes, because I've decided to set him free, completely free.
No saddle, no bridle, no reins, no games.
I understand that whatever you ask for from a horse it isn't at one with his life.
We've had a good time
together
but that's because he's very patient. Now he will go back to his world.
He wants to live as a horse, in
the middle of a pack, in nature. Without anyone that expects him to trot or
gallop on command. I'll always know where he is and I'll always
be able to find him. We'll meet again, but
in a different way. And I think he knows it.
At least that's what Nell told me: a horse never forgets.