Why I Ask A Friend To Video My Dressage Test From The Judge’s Viewpoint

A dressage test can feel very different from the saddle than it looks from the other side of the arena. I may finish a movement thinking Archie was beautifully balanced, only to discover in the video that his shoulder drifted, a transition happened late, or my position became untidy when I was concentrating on the next letter. That difference between feeling and appearance is where useful training information often sits.

For that reason, I ask a friend to video my dressage test from the judge’s viewpoint whenever it is practical. I am not looking for a polished film or a flattering angle. I want a clear record of what the judge could see, including the moments that feel small while I am riding but affect marks, accuracy, rhythm and the overall impression of the test.

The Judge Sees The Whole Picture

When I ride, my attention is divided between the arena letters, the test sequence, Archie’s balance, my own aids and the atmosphere around us. I can feel whether he is tense or forward, but I cannot see whether the halt is square from the front. I can sense a change in his tempo, but I cannot judge how much ground we covered before the corner or whether the movement reached the required marker.

A judge has a wider and more detached view. From the short side or long side, the judge can assess straightness, alignment, bend, geometry and the relationship between one movement and the next. A rider’s memory usually compresses the test into a few strong impressions: a good centre line, a difficult canter transition, a spooky moment near the gate. Video fills in the ordinary details that memory tends to discard.

That is why the judge’s viewpoint matters more to me than a dramatic side-on clip from somewhere near the warm-up area. A side angle can show an outline or a jump in rhythm, but it may hide whether Archie was travelling straight towards the letter. Footage taken near C, looking down the arena, gives me evidence that is much closer to the perspective used for judging the test.

Feeling Correct Is Not Always Looking Correct

Dressage asks for precise communication, and a small error can change the way an entire movement is marked. I may feel that I asked for a balanced transition from walk to canter, while the video shows Archie falling into the transition with his neck braced. I may believe that I rode an even twenty-metre circle, while the footage reveals that the circle became a little square in the corners.

The camera also catches the habits I do not notice while riding. I might lean into a turn, shorten my reins when I become anxious, or look down during a movement that I know well. Archie can respond to those changes before I realise I have made them. Seeing my hands, shoulders and upper body in relation to his movement gives me a more useful picture than a comment such as “I felt rushed.”

The same applies to good work. A rider can leave a test worried about one mistake and overlook several genuinely improved sections. Watching the recording lets me compare the feeling in the saddle with the visible result. Sometimes Archie looked more relaxed than I thought, or a transition I considered untidy was actually prompt and willing. Accurate video prevents me from training according to either excessive confidence or unnecessary disappointment.

Choosing The Right Person To Film

I ask a friend who understands enough about dressage to keep the camera steady and follow the test without distracting me. They do not need to be an experienced videographer. The important things are arriving early, knowing which end of the arena is the judge’s end, and having a basic idea of the test so the camera remains on horse and rider rather than drifting towards another arena.

Before I ride, I explain exactly what I need. I ask for the whole test from start to finish, with the camera held horizontally and the arena kept in frame wherever possible. I also ask my friend not to stop recording after a mistake. The recovery, the next transition and my response to the problem can be more valuable than the error itself.

A short conversation beforehand avoids confusion in a busy competition environment. At a venue outside Melbourne or Sydney, there may be several arenas running at once, loudspeakers, warm-up traffic and people moving between trucks and yards. I point out the correct arena, give my friend the test number and make sure they know where they can stand without blocking officials or other competitors.

Making The Australian Competition Setting Work

Australian eventing and dressage venues often involve early starts, long drives and changing weather. At a show near Werribee, Camden or the outskirts of Brisbane, I may be unloading before sunrise and trying to keep Archie settled while the temperature rises. A friend who is filming needs clear directions because there may be limited shade, patchy mobile reception and a strict timetable between dressage, show jumping and cross-country.

I also check the event’s photography and recording expectations. Competition organisers can have their own rules about where spectators may stand, and officials or venue staff may ask people to move away from entrances, judging boxes or horse paths. At EA-affiliated competitions, the published conditions and rules should take priority over my preferred camera position. A good angle is never worth interfering with another rider or creating a safety problem.

Heat changes the practical details as well. In parts of Australia, a summer test can take place when the arena surface is already drying and horses are working hard before midday. I want my friend to carry water, wear a hat and stand safely outside the rail rather than trying to chase the best image. Filming works best when it is treated as part of the competition plan, alongside boot cleaning, plaiting, hydration and checking the float before the drive home.

The Camera Position Makes A Difference

For a standard arena, I prefer the camera to be near the judge’s end, around the centre of the short side, with enough distance to see the full width of the arena. The person filming should avoid standing too close to the rail because the horse can disappear behind the corner or become distorted by perspective. A little height helps, provided the position is safe and permitted.

The camera should follow smoothly but not swing too quickly. I would rather have a complete, steady record with a few seconds of empty arena than a series of close-ups that make it impossible to judge the shape of a movement. Zooming in can be useful for a halt or salute, but the full horse and the relevant arena markers need to remain visible for most of the test.

Sound is helpful too. I like being able to hear the caller, the music if it is a freestyle, and the general atmosphere around the arena. The recording does not need professional audio, but the sound can reveal whether Archie hesitated because of a noise, whether I gave an audible cue, or whether the rhythm changed as we passed a gate or loudspeaker.

Reviewing The Test Without Overreacting

I rarely watch the whole recording once and make a sweeping judgement. First I watch it without pausing, simply to remember the flow of the test. Then I watch specific movements again: the entry and halt, the first corner, any medium work, the canter transitions, the circles and the final centre line. This creates a practical connection between the video and the judge’s sheet.

I look for patterns rather than isolated frames. One crooked transition may be an accident, while the same loss of straightness in three movements suggests a training issue. If Archie consistently falls through his right shoulder, I can discuss that with my coach and address it in schooling. If I repeatedly tighten my shoulders before a canter depart, the solution may involve my preparation and breathing as much as Archie’s response.

The review also helps me understand comments from the judge. Words such as “needs more suppleness,” “late behind,” “lacks straightness” or “good activity” are easier to interpret when I can find the relevant movement on screen. I keep a few notes, but I avoid turning every second of footage into a criticism. The purpose is to identify the next useful lesson, not to prove that the entire test was flawed.

Connecting Riding Fitness With Position

My position affects what Archie can do, especially when I become tired. A long competition day can include loading, travelling, walking between arenas, standing in the sun and riding more than one phase. By the time I reach the dressage test, a weak core or tired legs may show as swinging hands, a collapsed hip or an unstable lower leg.

Video makes those physical changes visible. I can compare the first centre line with the final one and see whether my posture deteriorated. When I am working on general conditioning away from the horse, I sometimes use rider fitness sessions as part of a broader routine, alongside riding, stretching and ordinary strength work. The exact exercises matter less to me than building enough consistency to stay organised in the saddle.

This is also where an honest friend is valuable. Someone who knows my riding can say that I looked tense before I notice it myself, or that I was sitting more evenly than I had expected. I do not need a friend to analyse every biomechanics detail at the gate. I need a reliable record and a second pair of eyes that can help separate a temporary competition wobble from a recurring habit.

Turning Footage Into The Next Training Session

The best result of filming is a clear plan for the next ride. If the video shows that my ten-metre circle becomes too large, I can practise the geometry with cones or markers. If the canter departs are late, I can improve the preparation instead of simply asking more strongly. If Archie looks tense near the entrance, I can include transitions and relaxation work in that area during schooling.

I also use the footage to prepare mentally for the next test. I can rehearse the parts that caused confusion, check where I lost concentration and remind myself of a simple riding priority, such as keeping the shoulders straight through the corner. This is especially helpful when a test is held at an unfamiliar venue and the letters, arena boards or entry gate feel different from home.

A friend’s recording cannot replace the judge’s marks, a coach’s eye or time spent riding Archie thoughtfully. It adds another perspective: the view of the combination moving through the arena as an official might see it. That perspective keeps my training grounded in observable details, and it helps turn one competition day into information I can use long after the horse float is parked at home.