Martin Plewa has held countless roles in the equestrian world throughout his career, but above all, he is a passionate trainer devoted to the welfare of the horse. © www.sportfotos-lafrentz.de
Following numerous requests, we are pleased to present the English version of our interview with Reitmeister Martin Plewa:
Let's start with the basics of horse training. What are the absolutely essential principles you believe cannot be compromised?
I believe we have a very strong foundation in classical riding theory. For me, the most important thing is always to tailor the training to the horse. To do that, I need to understand: How does a horse move? How does it learn? Training must be adapted to the horse’s stage of maturity, age, and later, its level of education. The horse must be able to easily understand what the rider is asking. That means building everything logically and following clear principles—for example, progressing from simple to complex, from familiar to unfamiliar. This ensures the horse never feels overwhelmed.
Beyond that, I must always pay close attention to the horse’s reactions, constantly sensing how it understands my aids. If the horse doesn’t respond the way I expect, I have to question myself: What might I be doing wrong? It's essential to always listen to the horse and allow it to influence the pace of the training to some extent. Of course, you have a system in mind, but every horse reacts a little differently.
You also need to allow enough time and maintain a sense of calm. There was a famous 19th-century equestrian scholar, Gustav Steinbrecht, who said, "Ride with benevolent composure." That perfectly captures the mindset: approach the horse with positivity, remain relaxed and unemotional, but always stay consistent.
In your view, are today's riders different when it comes to patience, consistency, and sensitivity toward the horse?
Yes, I believe there’s been a shift. My generation learned from instructors who mostly came from military backgrounds—cavalry officers who taught in a very structured, prescriptive way. As students, we were eager to follow these clear guidelines, and it worked.
Today, trainers tend to adapt more to the individual needs of the rider. However, some riders fail to recognize that their own seat and aids aren't yet sufficiently developed. They really need more training themselves before they can fairly and correctly educate a horse. I often see the focus placed more on "training" the horse than on improving the rider—things like seat corrections are often neglected. We now tend to be more considerate of the rider than the horse, and that can lead to riders developing the wrong mindset, blaming the horse when things go wrong. I absolutely do not tolerate that in my teaching. If something isn’t working, the first step is always self-reflection.
There are many efforts underway to make riding instruction more accessible and didactically refined. Do you think that's useful?
Absolutely. It's crucial for riders to engage with their own sense of movement and physical strengths or limitations—things like suppleness, elasticity, and so forth. But in the end, the key for me is always the rider's feeling. Riding is a sport of coordination, and coordination requires mobility and a highly developed sense of body awareness.
Was there much focus on body awareness in the old military-style training?
Yes, definitely. A fine hand was especially emphasized. One of my instructors used to say, "The horse’s mouth is sacred." We always rode without auxiliary aids like side reins. Great patience was given to achieving correct contact.
In the first youth rider exams, all horses went without any auxiliary reins. I rode my first test at seven years old—horse changes included—and that was completely normal. And woe to anyone who pulled on the reins—they were immediately corrected. The foundation was always the correct use of aids, learning to properly connect the horse to the aids, to allow the reins to "chew out of the hand" correctly. We practiced that endlessly, and even if we didn’t fully grasp it as children, it ingrained the correct feeling so thoroughly that later, we could ride any horse properly.
There's a lot of criticism of modern dressage. In your opinion, is the sport still justifiable?
Of course it is—provided we ride correctly. Our training system is based on the horse's natural movement. But we've seen some serious deviations, and these weren’t addressed soon enough. That’s true nationally in Germany as well as internationally.
When incorrect riding is rewarded at competitions, it’s no surprise that riders start copying it. I’ve followed international sport for decades—World Championships, Olympics, and so on. There was a clear shift: suddenly, horses were dramatically overflexed, yet still winning.
I often see the focus placed more on "training" the horse than on improving the rider—things like seat corrections are often neglected. We now tend to be more considerate of the rider than the horse, and that can lead to riders developing the wrong mindset, blaming the horse when things go wrong.
When did you notice that trend beginning?
Around the 2000 Sydney Olympics. A horse won that showed little suppleness, was extremely tight in the frame—but lifted its legs dramatically. It was not correct. Then Totilas appeared, with his extravagant front-leg movement becoming the new standard. Horses showing that exaggerated motion were rewarded—even though we know it can be artificially induced through tension.
Like a stallion posturing—it lifts its legs high but is anything but relaxed. The judging shifted from rewarding correct, relaxed movement to rewarding spectacular but tense performances. Everyone applauded, regardless of how tense the horses were, and riders began training for that look, often using unethical methods. That’s when animal welfare issues came into the spotlight.
Do you think this change was a conscious decision to reward the "spectacle"?
I do. The general public—who often aren't experts—found the spectacle appealing. I grew up near the Dutch border and rode many shows in Holland, where they had the "Tuigpaarden"—high-headed horses with hollow backs, high tails, and extreme front-leg action. Even today, that’s admired and bred for there.
It seems laypeople are naturally drawn to spectacular front-leg movement. If that happens naturally, like in a Hackney, it’s fine. But if it's produced through force and tension, it’s against the horse's welfare—and that’s the problem today.
Strong rein contact, mouth issues, psychological stress—these problems are obvious to any professional. Yet if judges continue to overlook it, rewarding only the flashy moves regardless of the horse’s well-being, we won’t see any change.
"Riding in benevolent tranquility" — a motto more relevant today than ever: calm mind, clear aids, kind heart. This keeps horse training fair. © Henriette Göttinger
Awareness of the issue is growing. But is it really so hard to turn things around?
It can only be done with strong, decisive action. I’m no longer active internationally, but from what I see, the FEI Dressage Task Force has correctly identified that change is urgently needed.
Nationally, I’m involved with the Xenophon Association, and last year we approached the German Equestrian Federation (FN). We said clearly: work together with the German Judges’ Association and the German Riders’ Association to turn things around. The first steps have been taken—it’s not enough yet, but we’re continuing this year. We're determined to correct the wrong trends, because otherwise it could spill over into other disciplines too.
How could other disciplines be affected?
Take the double bridle, for example: if we question its use in dressage, what happens to driving? Carriage horses are driven almost exclusively on double bridles. Or show jumping—many riders use bits that are similar in action.
If we ban the double bridle simply because it's sometimes misused, we're on a dangerous path. Before long, people might call for banning snaffles too, because they too can be misused. That would be the end of classical riding.
I'm strongly in favor of correctly punishing bad riding through judging. You could ride correctly on a double bridle 25 or 30 years ago without any controversy—because the horses looked correct. It's not the tack that’s the problem, it's the misuse of it.
So you're against making the double bridle optional?
Yes. I’m in favor of consistent tack requirements. You could offer Grand Prix classes on the snaffle—that’s fine. But mixing snaffle and double bridle within the same competition doesn’t make sense. The double bridle requires a trained rider and a trained horse. If those conditions are met, the double bridle is a valuable tool.
We could offer more high-level classes with the snaffle, but the double bridle itself must not be called into question. And many arguments against it are nonsense—like claims that horses' mouths are now too small. That’s simply not true; scientific studies show that mouth sizes across breeds are similar.
Some say today’s horses are so light and sensitive in the contact that they don't need a double bridle.
If that were true, why do riders crank down on the curb rein so hard? It's nonsense. Horses didn’t go correctly in the past because they were stiff in the poll—they went correctly because they were properly trained. Today’s horses, with their beautiful necks and fine contact, can and should be ridden correctly too.
I learned to ride on a working horse—a big, heavy warmblood used in agriculture. He didn't have a naturally supple poll either, but he still went correctly through his body. And if we had cranked a horse behind the vertical back then, we would have been immediately corrected.
Nowadays, riders force even the lightest, most elegant horses into a tight frame. That’s not sensitivity—that’s bad riding.
One of my instructors used to say, "The horse’s mouth is sacred." We always rode without auxiliary aids like side reins. Great patience was given to achieving correct contact.
Does tight riding stem from a desire to control nervous, spooky horses?
Yes—but it's counterproductive. A horse can’t see anything directly above its eyes. If a horse is nervous, you need to let it look around until it relaxes and lowers its neck. Only then is it mentally balanced enough to work.
Forcing a horse into a tight frame only makes it more anxious. It's a form of psychological stress. It’s like trying to control a nervous human by grabbing them tightly—it doesn’t work. Horses need freedom and trust to balance themselves physically and mentally.
So mental balance must come first, before real riding work can even begin?
Exactly. Imagine trying to perform physical labor while being forced into an unnatural posture—you'd become physically and mentally ill. And that’s what happens to many horses today.
You’ve said that a goal of good riding is to be able to ride with one hand. Does that apply from a certain level onwards?
No, it applies universally. It's a test of true connection. If the horse is truly working from behind into a steady hand, you should be able to ride with both reins in one hand—even at a basic level. My students know that sooner or later I’ll say, "Now both reins in one hand," to test the quality of the connection.
Maybe that would solve the whole double bridle debate—requiring a few one-handed segments in every dressage test?
Absolutely. In earlier German dressage tests, you had to ride one-handed from the L level (medium) upward. Whether on a snaffle or a double bridle didn’t matter. But unfortunately, that requirement was removed due to pressure from riders, which I believe was a big mistake.
What about the idea of abolishing the initial halt and salute?
In some eventing dressage tests, the initial halt has been dropped to save time. But at least one halt and salute must remain. In Germany, we’re firmly in favor of it. It shows whether the horse is straight, balanced, and correctly framed independently of the arena fence.
Finally, what rider mistakes do you see most often when teaching?
First, many riders just "run" their horses during warm-up instead of actually gymnasticizing them through meaningful exercises.
Second, they forget to give their horses enough breaks, which makes the horses increasingly tired and stiff.
Third, the fine coordination of aids is often missing. Riders rely too much on their hands, or use spurs when they should simply refine their leg aids.
And, as I mentioned, too often they blame the horse when something goes wrong—rather than looking at themselves first.
This translation was created with the assistance of AI and carefully reviewed for accuracy.