Why should you study endgames?

Hey everyone! Since entering the realm of coaching I've been listening to the experience of other coaches and trying to filter out different advices. In this process I got myself thinking about the question in the title- why should we study endgames? Now, I don't think I ever thought endgames are boring, and always seemed to naturally like them, but when reminiscing about why I wanted to work on them, I got to a peculiar and funny reason.

I remember that, as a former kid :), I really didn't like the phrase: "Take the kids to the endgame". Why should it be easy for players to just get me to an endgame and get a free point? I think my younger self enjoyed the thought of being good at something I 'wasn't supposed' to be good at. This was also fueled by the utter annoyance I felt many times when the phrase proved true in my games.

However, when thinking about this question now that I'm a slightly older kid, this way of thinking is cute, but surely can't be the reason why so many coaches insist on studying endgames, even before openings and middlegames. Also, this answer is not sufficient to the natural counter argument: "My games don't even reach the endgame, what is the point?"

To get to the actual article, I think the reason is closely tied to another topic- piece value.

The value, ability, and natural tendencies of pieces, are highlighted in the endgame.

This is the main point of the article, which I will try to support through different examples. But first, let's talk about the nature of endgames themselves.

Due to the richness of chess, it is difficult to precisely define them. In fact there still isn't a consensus on when does the middlegame end and the endgame begin, with several strong grandmasters offering different definitions. Nonetheless, I enjoy this phrase in Shereshevsky's book 'Endgame strategy'

In endgames, technique comes to the fore. First of all, a chess player has to change his thoughts, his mood. Beauty and tactics ought to be forgotten!

This seems very categorical, but the author understands that the, so-called, 'tactical endgames' exist (and even dedicates a whole chapter to them), but he wants to emphasize a point about the inherent nature of endgames themselves. Listen to how he continues.

In the vast majority of endgames, it is necessary to think about plans. Variations play a secondary role. Schematic thinking becomes the priority, after which the possibility of constructing this-or-that position is checked through calculating variations.

I believe that a key reason to why this shift in game plan occurs, is because the endgame lets the pieces showcase their true character, without the distractions of the middlegame. I will expand upon what I mean by this through the following examples regarding minor pieces.

Bishops

Let's first talk about the pieces themselves, starting from the bishop.

Bishop's Movement

This is the most basic example, but valuable for understanding the bishops. By doing simple counting, the bishop on the centre just controls more squares than the one on the corner. The position also shows the ability of bishops to put pressure on both sides of the board- this is very clear in an endgame such as this:

Centralized bishop (endgame)

Everything is symmetrical, the knight is not as bad, centrally located, kings are both in the middle, yet it is obvious that white has the advantage. Things are different in other phases of the game:

Bishop on the centre (middlegame)

Both bishops (on c5 and d5) are centrally placed, however they stand a bit clumsy considering they can be attacked by the opponent's pieces, enabling them to gain some time in the process. Their inherent tendency for open positions is additionally displayed by how pawn chains can restrict them. How poorly the bishop stands in the corner is perhaps best shown in the following famous game:

Bishop in the corner (endgame)

I also couldn't resist showing this study:

Roslov, 1966

It is incredible that the bishop can fight against a rook and pawn in this position, but doesn't have the time to get to the centre, and is claustrophobic on the longest diagonal. In the middlegame however, bishops are quite good at staying tucked away and applying constant pressure on their diagonal. Perhaps there is no better game to exhibit this than Bobotsov - Tal from 1958:

Fianchetto Bishop (middlegame)

Finally, the bishop's ability to lose a move is only visible in an endgame (if it has happened in a middlegame, it is probably extremely rare):

Bishop loses tempo

As a conclusion to this section, let's examine a game where some of this principles are visible from an early stage:

Averbakh - Botvinnik

Knights

If bishops are long range sharp-shooters, knights are melee attackers that cover a short range effectively. When examining the bishops we saw some examples that showcased the weaknesses of knights, however they can be extremely powerful as well. Let's start with the same basic example as we did earlier:

Knight's movement

This reveals the knight's predilection towards the centre, and its clumsiness on the edge of the board. However, there is something else, the knights controls eight squares both from d5 and f6, but the later attacks spaces much deeper in the opponent's territory, especially g8, where the king usually hides. Now see the implications in middlegame play:

Centralized knight (middlegame)

White established an unopposed knight on d5 and had an opportunity to do the same on f6 by sacrificing the exchange for an unopposed f6 knight. He chose the simpler way, and as soon as the knight got to the square, black had no defence. But why was winning here and not in the following variation:

Shveshnikov knight

Both times the knight had an outpost on d5, black having a backwards d6 pawn, but white was clearly winning before, and now the game is balanced. The reason is that the value of our pieces is directly influenced by the ones of our opponent. In the middlegame, there is so much interaction between pieces that it is very difficult to activate our pieces to the maximum potential. In the endgame, it is often a necessity to do such.

Good knight - Bad bishop

This is a recent game of mine, where the ability of a knight to dance around the board using outposts and the holes in the opponent's camp. The closed nature of the position was crucial for this to be exposed, which is how some opening ideas and middlegame plans are born:

Petrosian - Schweber

A marvellous display from Petrosian, closing the position to maximize his space advantage, and making advantageous trades which highlighted the power of his knights.

Conclusions

I wish to have included some examples of major piece endgames, however the article was getting too heavy, and I think these positions were enough to portray my train of thought.

There was one main point on which I was focusing while writing this post, which encapsulates all others:

Endgames force us to seek the best positions for our pieces. If we have just one bishop and it is terrible, there is no kingside attack to distract the opponent and make it look good. The endgame is like a dish with a few ingredients where the effect of each is simply more noticeable. By practicing how to use the ingredients we have (pieces) to their fullest, we unlock the ability to create more complex dishes (opening and middlegame play).

Finally I must say that chess is so inherently complex, that it is almost never just one factor which decides the outcome of the game. The examples therefore only try to highlight certain aspects, but be ware of taking these principles as absolute rules. Additionally, I had never seen the connection between endgames and middlegames being described in this way before, but it is very possible that you might. In that case, I hope to at least have contributed by compiling a ready list of positions that portray that connection, which is another benefit of this post.

I hope this article was useful and gave you some food for thought.
May you all have a nice day.