|
fatta a suo tempo da fabio palma:
"John Gill: Bouldering - just a simple idea!
As the first North American to view bouldering as an activity in its own right, John was a pioneer. Born in 1937, John started climbing in 1953. Being a gymnast and a competition rope-climber, he viewed rock-climbing as an extension of gymnastics, rather as an extension of hiking, which was the predominant view. This led to the introduction of intensive training, dynamic moves, gymnastic chalk, and a preliminary bouldering rating system (B1, B2, B3) into American climbing by the end of the 1950s. In 1961, John soloed "The Thimble" at the Needles in the Black Hills. Weighing in around 7b (5.12), this was probably the hardest piece of climbing on the planet at the time, although John himself says he’d done harder individual moves years earlier. Fabio Palma has interviewed this legend.
Are there some of the current bouldering heroes who approach bouldering as you did? Chris Sharma perhaps?
I really don’t know any of the current technical leaders in the sport, since I gave up any sort of competitive activity about 15 years ago. At that time, the American boulderer Chris Jones had both a technical style and approach to bouldering reminiscent of me in an earlier era. I’ve heard that Sharma has found a certain spiritual meaning in bouldering, and I respect and admire that, particularly when others are solely obsessed with difficulty. Also, I tend to admire athletes – perhaps not the most elite - who have other intellectual or vocational interests, and are not one-dimensional. Climbers who treat climbing or bouldering as an avocation rather than a vocation.
What kind of free soloing do you find satisfying?
For me, over the years, bouldering has come to mean an association between myself and the rock, unencumbered by equipment, and free spirited. Thus, I am always bouldering, whether 3 meters above the ground or 300 meters. That is not to say I haven’t used a rope occasionally in both instances, but less and less as time went on. After my free solo first ascent of the Thimble in 1961 I became much more conservative as a solo climber. In general, I pursued difficulty near the ground and simple and easier adventures when higher up, exploring as I climbed. I learned to not be intimidated by the absence of difficulty or danger, and to engage in climbing, even scrambling, that lifted my spirits.
How important is it to master the physical or technical aspects of climbing in order to be creative?
One creates or choreographs as soon as the first move is attempted. Even an unskilled climber can create – but with added skills your creations are more substantive and give you deeper pleasure. A painter with natural talent can do interesting things when he first takes up the brush, but look what he can do after polishing his technical skills and learning what his vision really is and how to express it to others. A climber should remember the three rules: Practice, Practice, Practice!
When do you find a boulder pleasing?
When I was younger, bouldering meant dynamic motion. Static moves on small rocks were more a sort of micro-climbing. So a boulder, preferably overhanging, smooth, and with widely spaced holds adequate for dynamic, even gymnastic movement held a certain fascination for me. What are you most proud of, as a boulderer/climber? Introducing a new way to perceive climbing here in America in the late 1950s and 1960s. Then I started in 1953, climbing was considered an extension of walking or hiking, and most moves were more or less static. After becoming a gymnast of sorts, I began to see climbing as a natural extension of gymnastics. I introduced dynamic moves, intensive training, the use of chalk, and a B-grading system into climbing, through the medium of bouldering. Although, using my approach, I was able to do harder moves than many others of that era, I think my essential and more lasting contribution to climbing was just a simple idea.
Why is bouldering so popular now? Because it’s easier to do than longer climbs? Or, because it’s more of a game? Does it give more freedom?
Bouldering is so easy to engage in. There is very little equipment – a pair of climbing shoes and a little chalk and maybe a bouldering pad, and you are set to go. Approaches are usually short, so little time is wasted getting onto the rock. Here in America, John Sherman’s V–bouldering scale (for Verm, short for Vermin, a college nickname) has given young boulderers an unlimited range of numbers to chase in their competitive efforts. And, of course, bouldering is an ideal venue for competition.
To see why my old B-scale has understandably expired, to be largely replaced by Sherman’s, allow me to provide a brief historical context for it. Perhaps this will make it less nebulous. In the mid and late 1950s, if you were to tell an American climber that in future years it would be admissible, even admirable to rappel down a cliff and put in bolts with a machine for a "route" that was merely speculative, and then hangdog to your heart’s content at each bolt until you worked out the moves, he would spew beer in your face. At that time the only legitimate way to go was up, from the bottom, protecting as you climbed. It was thus assumed that "bouldering would always have the hardest moves" (Chouinard). Accepting this assumption, my idea was quite simple: B1 would correspond to a move or short sequence at the leading edge of traditional climbing. At the time this was about 5.10. B2 would describe a move or short sequence that was, by consensus, harder than what was found ! in traditional routes. I.e., a "bouldering class" move. And B3 would be awarded to a problem that was, at least for a short time, an eliminate – having only one ascent, though tried by experts. Naturally, B3s downgraded as time passed. As traditional climbs became harder, the whole system would shift accordingly. It goes without saying that the acceptance of sport climbing in this country spelled the effective end of the B-system, since sport climbing is, in a sense, extended (although more inconvenient and tiring) bouldering. Also, the use of designations B1+, B2-, etc. contaminated the system.
Indeed, bouldering has a playful character as well. One can eliminate holds, or bypass a static move dynamically or vice-versa, thereby creating another "problem", or do no-hands problems, or any number of other variations. Certainly, it gives a sense of enhanced freedom. After so many years, though, I am a little surprised it has become SO popular!
Must one be an egoist to become a "John Gill"?
I hope not! Every successful athlete is self centered to some extent, but, speaking personally, I most admire those climbers who lead balanced lives, with families and vocations outside of climbing. I have always considered myself an amateur – not a professional - no matter how much effort I put into training. I’ve always believed in achieving a balance between intellectual and physical pursuits. I must have been influenced by "Doc Savage" – an adventure literature character from the 1930s who had a PhD in science and was an accomplished athlete. I suppose that doesn’t preclude egotism! However, levels of difficulty are so high now that it may not be possible to reach the elite status unless you are both genetically gifted and virtually a full time climber. In these circumstances a certain amount of egotism is hard to avoid. Now there are world championships in bouldering.
How do these relate to the spirit of bouldering?
There are many climbers who are exclusively devoted to competition. For these people, contests and championships are a natural culmination of their efforts, and are a major part of the "spirit" of the sport. I was never enthusiastic about formalizing the competitive aspect of bouldering. I enjoyed the informal, almost chivalrous kind of friendly competition where you and a companion wander among the boulders, challenging one another. No grades, no judges, no prizes, just a simple satisfaction flowing from these efforts. But, for me, the spirit of bouldering was more complex. Discovering a new bouldering area was as delightful as climbing a hard route. Repeating a simple route over and over, making it smoother and smoother, until a sort of transcendental kinesthetic awareness swept over me – an almost mystical experience – illuminated a hidden but wonderful part of the spi! rit of bouldering. Bouldering became a moving meditation, which was as meaningful for me as competition.
How did you identify a boulder problem that you felt absolutely compelled to do?
Well, feeling compelled to do a problem had little to do with someone having climbed it before me. When a friend would do an interesting and difficult problem I would usually try my best to do it, but that’s not the same as an inner compulsion. My strong inner motivation would be aroused when I discovered a potential route on my own – it was a creative impulse, like discovering a theorem in mathematics and proving it. Then I would be at my best. I was happier discovering and creating, rather than competing.
Is there a limit in what can be achieved in performance?
Only, I think, in one’s personal performance. You have to know your limitations. As the sport matures, it attracts an increasing number of participants who are more and more genetically appropriate for the demands of bouldering. When I was young, and modern bouldering was in its infancy, almost anyone athletically inclined could train diligently and approach the existing standards. Those days are long gone. Now, to most climbers, V13, V14, etc. are merely exercises in abstract arithmetic. A process of natural selection has distilled out specific physiological traits that enable gifted and dedicated climbers to perform far beyond what was done in the past. Who knows where anatomy ends and difficulty begins? What is V12 to one climber may be V6 to another. I’m not even sure what the word limit means anymore.
Paralleling the conclusions of quantum mechanics, a "climb" is not merely an inert section of rock. The climber is an inseparable part of the climb. Watch two people who have somewhat different anatomies do the same bouldering route, perhaps using different holds or styles. How can you say there is but a single climb, when what you see says otherwise? Focusing on the persistent myth of objective "difficulty" - whatever that is - shields us from additional and diverse pleasures that can be found in bouldering, if we were to look for them with the intention of actually finding them.
We would be more honest if we were to abandon the frequent use of the word "difficulty" and instead say, e.g., Bill Jones did Midnight Lightning , but Sam Blake could not. You either get up something or you don’t. You may be a weird anatomical freak capable of climbing, say, The Blue Smear, while others cannot. Does that make The Blue Smear difficult? Or merely inaccessible to most climbers? But if climbers insist upon numbers or letters, a more honest and objective rating system would reflect only the number of expert climbers doing a particular problem compared with the number of expert climbers who attempt it. Or, perhaps a "Par " system as in golf, where the number of tries becomes critical. For instance, a "Par 4" indicates the average number of attempts an expert takes to do the problem. Personally, I think rating systems for bouldering are artifacts from the larger climbing world, where they are more meaningful. You don’t need them to measure personal progress, eit! her. You can do that by trying something over and over until you finally get it. You don’t need numbers or letters to tell you that you are progressing. It’s not as if you are counting pull-ups.
What would you teach children?
Very little. Perhaps just enough for them to enjoy it as a simple recreation. I don’t believe in recruiting climbers. Especially very young climbers. For me, climbing has to come from the inside, and not from some external stimulus. I would rather see a child grow into a young adult, uncontaminated by the current competitive climbing environment, and discover the joys of climbing in some other way. Otherwise climbing becomes like youth soccer, basketball, football, cricket, etc. Just another athletic enterprise, formalized, governed by officials, heavy in jargon, and dedicated to the passions of competition. Reading about an 8 year old who climbs 5.12 makes me a little queasy – I’ve seen how women’s gymnastics has changed from a sport that was at least partly recreational and attracted normal young women, to one that imposes severe restrictions on age, weight, height, etc. and is deadly serious, with competitive advantage the sole objective. I would hate to see bouldering! or climbing in general end up as a heavily controlled, competitive venue suitable for only a relative few genetically appropriate, elite athletes. I don’t think that will happen – there are too many diverse types of personalities in our sport for it to become rigorously rule-bound. People still become climbers to flaunt rules and regulations! God bless them. "
_________________
http://blocnotescn.blogspot.it/
|
... chaidet?? 
fabio lo conosco abbastanza bene (di persona) e mi fa strano (avendo letto parecchie altre sue cose) abbia fatto una traduzione simile, ma forse c'è una ragione a me sconosciuta 
, la correzione era ironica perchè scrivendo di "lezioni" in lingua è saltato fuori "numer" ( che sa tanto di piemunteis ) 