In most schools, teaching goes through three phases. First, the technique is described: the motion, the line of attack, the motive force, and the intended result are gone over and broken apart. This is a far cry from earlier martial arts schools in which, in part due to a language barrier between Oriental masters and Western students, often the only advice given was, "Do like this."
Next, the technique is demonstrated. This stage is where the skill of stealing the technique comes in handy. It can be difficult to break down the move, without performing it along with the teacher and thus getting immediate feedback, to its essential components. The technique is too large to hold in one's mind completely. Instead, as Picasso has done with this vulture, one must concentrate on the important elements. Is that hand position incidental or the that-for-the-sake-of-which? What is the angle of the hip, and why? As one advances in the art, one learns on what to concentrate. Instead of trying to capture each nuance of the demonstrator, one focuses on the important ones. Previously learned techniques inform the attempt to learn another.
Finally, the student must make the technique his own. Practicing alone or in a group, he has in his bones the knowledge of what the technique should be. He may not perform it correctly each time, but he has awareness of his body and can notice his mistakes, and, through practice, correct them.
Is the theory, anyway. Often times the student has a false or misled interpretation of the technique, and all his practice serves only to cement his errors. One often spends more time paring away from one's moves than adding to them.
I'm posting this because I realized that I've been performing my side-kick with a slight but non-trivial error each time. Now I've got years of practice to forget. Hmmph.