As part of
the ongoing event entitled A Tribute to
Patrick Macdonald in London which
marks the centenary of his birth, Selma Gokcen interviews Ted McNamara about
the traditions which shaped Mr Macdonald’s work.
In this
centenary year of Patrick Macdonald’s birth, it is timely to
re-examine his legacy in light of his unique contributions to the Alexander
Technique. Would you speak about the fundamental underlying differences in his
way of working?
In the book Personally
Speaking: Walter Carrington on the F.M. Alexander Technique in discussion with
Sean Carey, Mr Carrington offers his view that the personalities of those
involved in the different traditions of teaching the Alexander Technique “made
a significant impact on the way the Technique has been taught”. He goes on to
say that Patrick Macdonald was interested in boxing, Wilfred Barlow in
medicine, and that he himself was interested in the character and personality
of Alexander. I can confirm from my own experience of working under these three
men that there is truth in these observations.
Dr Barlow was second to none in clarifying what may
be viewed as a medical aspect of the Technique, and his table work with a pupil
in this regard was exemplary. I found Walter’s way of teaching profoundly
psychotherapeutic in the proper sense of that word, as in that which pertains
to the psychophysical organism.[1]
Would you
clarify how Mr Macdonald’s early training as a boxer relates to his teaching?
If one understands boxing as a martial art, as it was
taught to Mr Macdonald, then its influence on his work becomes apparent and
helps to understand his teaching.
In my years with Mr Macdonald, I rarely heard him
speak about boxing. On occasion he would refer to Muhammad Ali, who in his
younger years had an excellent natural use, but no less would he refer to Fred
Astaire or to the remarkable cricketer, Don Bradman. Sometimes he would fondly
quote his old boxing teacher, Mr Merryweather: “I can teach you this but you
are going to have to learn it yourself.” On one occasion, I heard Mr Macdonald
discourage a young man who had sought his advice on taking up boxing as a
career. Among the several solid reasons that he offered was that “Boxing is no
longer what it was and has not been so for some time.”
How would
the early traditions of boxing have formed the basis of Mr Macdonald’s
approach?
It is a relatively short walk from Ashley Place,
where F.M. Alexander taught for many years, to Westminster Abbey, and there, in
the Western side of the Cloister, lie together the remains of John
Broughton (1703-1789) and his wife, Elizabeth. John Broughton had been a pupil
of James Figg (1695-1734), a boxer, fencer, and noted exponent of the
quarterstaff. Together, these two men laid the foundations of what became known
as English boxing. In their time, boxing was regarded as a martial art, no less
than Judo and Aikido are today.
Many of Figg’s influences would have come from
continental Europe. Two of the greatest historical centres of fencing had been
in Italy and Spain. The Italian school, founded in 1415, was based in 16th
century Bologna.[2] The Spanish
school, first documented in 1569, became known as “La Verdadera Destreza” (“The
True Skill”) or simply, the “Spanish Circle”. Whereas the Italian approach was
based on the idea that “the best defence is offence”, the Circle’s main
teaching was that the best defence was to get out of the way of the attack,
which required an understanding of movement. Its techniques were based on the
philosophical and mathematical works of such notables as Aristotle and Euclid,
and it seems to have been influenced by Jewish and Islamic mysticism, probably
through contact with the Marranos and Moriscos.[3]
Some movements from fencing were incorporated into
English boxing, such as the rotation of the spine, swaying,
shifting weight, parrying and blocking, and opposition between hands and back.
Familiar both to boxing and to many students of Alexander Technique is the
lunge, which dates back to the late 16th century in fencing, and
which Mr Macdonald almost certainly encountered in his boxing training.[4]
Also woven into boxing were Savate and Bartitsu.
Savate, a form of French foot fighting, was mixed with English boxing and
became known as Boxe Française Savate, which translates roughly as “fencing
with the feet and hands”. Bartitsu was a system of self-defence that was
introduced to England at the end of the 19th century by Edward
Barton-Wright, a British engineer who had lived in Japan for some years. He
drew heavily on the Shinden Fudo Ryu, Tenjin-Shinyo, Fusen, and Daito schools
of classical jujitsu, and from Kododan judo, and combined these with combat
techniques from English boxing. There were, of course, other influences, direct
and indirect, on English boxing, not the least of which was archery, the art at
which the medieval English bowmen excelled.
In your
teaching you often demonstrate movements shown to you by Mr Macdonald, which
could be said to relate to the martial arts and Tai Chi.
Yes, the defining qualities of Mr Macdonald’s
teaching were those of a true martial artist. He had the ability to allow the
placement of the principles of the Alexander Technique and to take them into
dynamic motion – including walking, the lunge, a “swinger”, up onto the
toes, position of mechanical advantage or “monkey”, and the squat.[5]
Mr Macdonald’s teaching of the rotation in the spine
is a profoundly useful means of maintaining the teacher’s opposition to the
pupil and setting up the dynamic oppositions within the pupil, and this is a
prime example of a fundamental aspect of his teaching that has a correspondence
in the martial arts. This rotation in the spine was the same movement that I
was shown in Tai Chi and Ba Kua (as well as one form of Nordic walking and
traditional set dance), and has a connection to the defensive movement in La
Destreza known as “circle and tangent”. In this movement, as Mr Macdonald
taught it, the rotation, directed at brain-thought level[6],
commences at the bottom of the spine. As far as he is able, the teacher keeps
his mind in the movement, and as he maintains his back back-and-up in
opposition to the back of the pupil, his hands are moving in tangent to the
rotation. Meanwhile, the teacher’s hands on the pupil’s head are also in
complementary opposition, the front hand encouraging the head forward-and-up,
the back hand giving the back-and-up direction: “Forward to release it, up to
co-ordinate it.” An inexperienced eye may not be able to perceive this movement
by watching films of him working, but when he was teaching it was going on all
of the time.[7]
As in the martial arts, under Mr Macdonald’s
teaching, initially one learned the movement externally –
that is, as an outer form; in itself, this is not the movement. It takes many
years to allow the movements to manifest from inside and ultimately to be
informed by a movement that is not of the body.[8]
With practice, the energies can manifest into the body through the spine, which
in the Alexander Technique is facilitated by allowing the neck to be free. As
with any discipline – martial arts, learning to play an instrument,
acting – it was far from being a given that one could learn these vital
movements, even in their outer form, let alone to impart the teaching to
someone else. Mr Macdonald provided both the form and inner direction
consistently, which might or might not in time be met by “It”. When this
quality was present, Mr Macdonald would say unequivocally, “This is It.”[9]
Like a martial arts master – or any master
– he brought stillness and movement together. He did not waste movement;
he did not waste words. He was watchful. He demanded simply, and with the right
kind of seriousness, that you knew “where up is, and what up is”.[10]
His art was the Alexander Technique. Words are not the best way of
communicating his teaching, and words have a tendency to get stuck in the
ordinary mind, rather than being weighed and “placed upon the heart”, so that
they can be helpful towards understanding.
Ted
McNamara will offer a week-end workshop on May 7th and 8th
as part of A Tribute to Patrick Macdonald. For further information, please
consult http://www.welltemperedmusician.com
and click on Studio One.
[1] The word psychotherapy has come to have a narrow, restrictive meaning. Psycho- is primarily a prefix indicating “mind” or “mental”. I have used it here, as indicated by F. M. Alexander’s counsel to Marjory Barlow that “You are not prepared to be mental enough”; in other words, people do not use their minds properly. Therapeutic originates from the Therapeuts, who were members of an esoteric school dating from at least the first century A.D. Philo of Alexandria wrote, “The Therapeutae profess an art of healing superior to that in use in cities (for that only heals bodies, but the other heals souls…), or else because they have been instructed by nature and the sacred laws to serve the living God.” The Greek word therapeuein (‘to heal’) originally meant ‘service to the Gods.’
[2] Founder of the Italian school Lippo Bartolomeo Dardi penned an influential treatise on fencing, De la Filosofia de las Armes (1583), in which he wrote, “Knowledge begins with use.”
[3] Jews and Moors who, under prosecution or order of expulsion from Spain, outwardly converted to Christianity in order that they could remain on the Iberian Peninsula, but for the most part quietly maintained their own religion and traditions.
[4] It should be noted that fencing was in its turn influenced by more ancient forms of martial arts (including boxing), some of which receive mention in the Chinese Classic of Rites, and in early Buddhist sources such as the Lotus Sutra, the Buddharata Sutra, and the Hongyo-kyo.
[5] A proper squat, which both Mr MacDonald and Miss Goldie frequently indicated to me, meant leaving the heels well down on the floor.
[6] Brain-thought level was an expression used by Margaret Goldie.
[7] No less was he aware of psychological oppositions, but he did not often speak of these. It should also be remembered that in this as in all things there are levels, “In stillness movement, in movement stillness.”
[8] This is a movement that can in a sense be described as light manifesting into weight and is silent; and yet, with proper attunement though a quality of listening, it can be heard.
[9] “You must learn to get out of the teacher’s way, learn to get out of your own way, then learn to get out of ITS way.” P Macdonald, The Alexander Technique As I See It.
[10] Compare those attributes of Mr Macdonald’s teaching listed here to the English fencing master Joseph Swetnam’s fundamental principles: a good guard, true observing of distance, to know the place, to take time, to keep space, patience, often practice. See The Schoole of the Noble and Worthy Science of Defence by Joseph Swetnam (pub. in 1617).
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