Showing posts with label "Good Tango". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "Good Tango". Show all posts

Sunday, June 20, 2021

Olga Metzner :: I dance with a man who tries to impress. Me, the people watching, himself. He’s a good dancer, but he tries too hard...

I dance with a man who tries to impress. Me, the people watching, himself. He’s a good dancer, but he tries too hard,...

Posted by Olga Metzner on Friday, June 18, 2021




I dance with a man who tries to impress. Me, the people watching, himself. He’s a good dancer, but he tries too hard, and it feels, especially from the inside. There’s no lightness in his movements, no joy, just pride and fear of judgement. This fear takes away the ability for us to connect, and I’m growing increasingly distant, slowly starting to judge myself, too, and the connection falls apart. I know what it feels like to be him, because I’ve been that dancer as well, when I tried too hard. I’m learning to let go, and it’s hard. 

 I dance with a woman who is afraid to give me her weight, even a tiny little bit. She wants to be a butterfly, light and feathery, I sense she dreams of floating above the floor, and even her clothes somewhat reflect it, her skirt is soft and moves with every breath and tiny move we make. Her hand is like an eggshell in my hand, I’m afraid to crush it, and I can’t anyway, since as soon as I try to hold her hand a bit tighter, her whole arm goes limp and I get a sense I’m crushing her. So I let her be her feathery self, but I can’t lead her, can’t connect to her. She is afraid to be heavy, so she disappears altogether. She’s so sure that a follower being light is the right thing, that she misses out on the one thing that makes this whole experience worth having: the connection, the interaction. Her tango is so full of question “am I too heavy now?”, that it becomes really hard to dance with her, lead her. I have been that woman, too, and I remember with such gratitude one teacher who told me to hold him, trust him with my weight. Years have passed, and I learned to have a gradation of heaviness and lightness, and play with it. And yet we can never know just how heavy or light we are for others. 

 I dance with a man with wonderful, warm close embrace, and I really really enjoy it. He is comfortable and soft and affirmative enough so that I genuinely feel cared for and connected. I smile to myself as I move. But then he opens the embrace… and I lose him. His head sinks into his shoulders, arms tense up, elbows shoot out sideways, and he shrinks a little. I’m so keen on getting back to that wonderful close embrace, and he’s keen on doing that giro with sacadas and parada in the open embrace… ohh! Finally back to the sweet close embrace, now we can really enjoy, both of us! After the tanda I think to myself, how I wish he worked a little more on his open embrace… He could be really one of my favourite dancers! Just a little but a big thing missing. And I tell myself, next time we dance I’ll try to keep the close embrace intact, for as long as it’s possible. 

 I watch a woman dance. She is amazing, her whole body dances, not just her legs. There’s very little decorations in her movement, yet she’s full of expression, femininity and power. Something about her is mesmerising. I want to be a bit more like her. How, how does she do this? She is just standing there, not moving at all, and yet there’s this intensity about her, that I want to dive into, swim in, feel connected to, learn it, and make my own. I ask her to teach me, and she passes her knowledge to me, over the years. And yet, I know this particular thing that drew me to her, that made her so fascinating, that thing eludes me. Maybe one day I will learn, maybe it’s something you can’t learn, maybe it’s something you might only live up to. That’s my goal, to find this thing, that I can’t even name, and it will be the source of my search for the rest of my life. And for now, I keep on watching this woman in fascination and admiration. To be there to watch is a real joy and honour. 

 I dance with a man who is sweet and musical, but I’m afraid to crush him. I make myself as light and as soft as possible, and yet he’s eluding me, as if afraid to touch me. Why are you so afraid of me? I answered to your cabeceo, I’m ready to be fully with you, completely merging with you and with music, why are you so afraid? Be with me! Dance with me! - I want to tell him. But of course I can’t, I can only make myself light and follow… I wish we didn’t miss out on the opportunity to be in a moment of togetherness, but you can’t be together if there’s fear or shame. So we move, we dance, but there’s so much more we could be. 

 I watch a couple dance. They are older, and there’s something truly honest about them. They stand out on the dance floor, and while everyone around them whirls and twists, they gently glide. I’ve been trying for more than a year to catch his gaze, pre-pandemic of course. He’s not the most technically perfect dancer, but he is honest. But he never looks at me. At times I wish I were older, maybe he’d look my way then. I’d so love to feel the honesty of his embrace, the commitment he clearly makes to being there with his partner. Nothing fancy, just together. One day I came up to him at the end of milonga and told him what I thought. He smiled, and said he can’t believe I’d like to dance with him. Why is it that we are so used to being put in one box within our community, to never leave it again? We are missing out on so much. I’m missing out on being able to dance with him. He is missing out on dancing with younger people, and showing them maybe what honesty in the dance really is. I don’t know, I still hope to one day dance with him. Still hope. 

 I dance with people, I watch people. This is tango, so familiar and yet so elusive. 

 Let’s keep dancing.

From Olga Metzner on Facebook - she's based in London.

Here's her website: https://www.tangobetter.com/

And she's got more articles & stories here: https://www.tangobetter.com/stories

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Wednesday, June 11, 2014

This is what social tango is all about...

Thanks to Marina for setting her video as "Public" so it can be shared...


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Cortometraggio "Milonga" di Marco Calvise

This just in...an excellent (Italian) short film... a find by my tango field operative Rigoberto Ruiszhik...uploaded just the other day...

Enjoy. It's a good'un. Thanks go out to Rigoberto.




Uploaded by carcasstube on Feb 13, 2012
*Capalbio Cinema International 2011 -- Capalbio(GR)
"Best Director Award"

*Settimo Senso 2011 -- Festival del cinema di Scafa -- Scafa(PE)
"Premio come miglior Corto"

*III Movieclub Film Festival 2011 -- Palestrina(RM)
"Premio come miglior regia"

*Fiati Corti 12 -- Istrana(TV)
"Premio miglior interprete"

*5° Festival Internazionale del Cinema dell'Aquila - L'Aquila
"Miglior Cortometraggio"(cat.Abruzzo)

*6° Festival Cinematografico Cinema & Ciociaria premio "Nino Manfredi" - Frosinone(FR)
"2° Classificato miglior cortometraggio"

Festival di cinema.
Selezione ufficiale:
*TFF - Torino Film Festival 2010 -- Torino
*Bif&st -- Bari International Film & Tv Festival 2011 - Bari
*Cortinametraggio 2011 -- Cortina d'Ampezzo(BL)(fuori concorso)
*A Corto D'Idee 2011 -- Ravello(SA)
*Figari Film Fest 2011 -- Golfo Aranci(OT)
*Trani Film Festival 2011 - Trani(BA)(fuori concorso)
*XIII VideoLab Film Festival 2011 -- Vittoria(RG)
*Premio cinematografico Palena 2011 -- Palena(CH)

Festival Di Tango:
Proiezione:
*I Montalbano Tango Festival 2011 - Montalbano Elicona(ME)
*I Bari International Tango Congress -- Bari
*IX Tano Tango Festival -- Napoli
*VI Choco Tango Festival - Perugia

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Tango Gift Ideas, direct from Austin, Texas

Glover by Laura Burlton
[Glover Gill by Laura Burlton, Houston Photographer]

We're extremely lucky to have our very own Tango composer and performer (piano, accordion) here in Austin (and Houston). Not to mention the other artists who complete the Tosca Tango Orchestra - Tosca String Quartet. They have been called "an exquisite ensemble of estrogen-driven musicality".

I love the challenge of dancing to them live. There's something about dancing to a live orchestra that tests, piques, energizes, electrifies, a leader's listening/musicality/interpretation/improvisation on the fly and to the hilt. Something wonderful. Truly an example of letting it go in your ears, filter through you heart and soul, and manifest itself in those four feet on the pista.

I've posted this video before, an "invitation" to the first annual Houston Tango Festival, produced by the local dancers of the Houston Tango community. HouTango is a great bunch of folks who I almost never see, nor dance with nearly enough. The song is "Mi Otra Mitad de Naranja" from the soundtrack for the film "Waking Life":



I just did a one-click download of it on Amazon.com. Or you can "Gift" it to someone. Click here. I'm not sure if the actual CD is still available. It looks like some used ones might be available.


My other recommendation is Glover's "Solo Tango". The entire CD is great, but I would recommend that you buy it solely for the "Malena" track. For me, it rivals - no it bests - by a great margin, Lucio Demare's Malena piano solo. Evidence: I'm clicking through my various versions of Malena, trying to find the one other piano solo in my collection. I find Demare's, listen a bit, and then click on Glover's in passing before I come back here. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand up. Good enough indicator for me.

And, it's extremely danceable.

You can buy Solo Tango through PayPal directly on Glover's website - and there are several other CD's there as well. Also note that there is sheet music for sale as well.

My only connection to Glover is that I know him, not well, but well enough to know he's a "good guy" and a very talented artist. Extremely talented, and he shares that talent with the local tango community with great humility - and shares it frequently. He is the tango dancer's composer/performer, and we're unbelievably blessed to have him in our lives.

That, and apparently his mom and my mom knew each other - growing up in the same San Antonio neighborhood back in the day.

Small world. I'll bet those teenage girls woulda never guessed their future sons would be connected out there in the great wide infinite - some 65 years later - connected by El Tango.

Small world indeed.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee with some Tango thrown in at the bottom

"The Three Chiefs - Piegan"
["Plate 209 - The Three Chiefs - Piegan" by Edward S. Curtis - circa 1900]

December 22, 2010 - I originally wrote this post back on April 4. I'm not sure why I never posted it. Perhaps it fell into the "too much drivel" category - like the stupid Cosmo v. Alex Gift Ideas thing I pulled yesterday. Sorry for that. Those of you subscribing via Readers/Feeders got it anyway. Sorry for that, too.

Perhaps I didn't post it originally because I felt blasphemous about the obtuse tie between Tango and Wounded Knee. But the tie is there - I'm being honest about that. These guys, talking tango up in Montana, prompted me to look at a map, which prompted a flood of memories from my past.

Does tango do that to us? Trigger or otherwise incubate or nourish introspection and memory and curiosity and emotion and deep pondering of things various and sundry?

Nah.

Tango does do something to us...those of us who find our hearts clenched in its tendrils...and that, my friends, as always, is a subject for another post.

Anyway, all blasphemy aside - I decided to run with the original title of the post. I may run another one, let's call it Part II, on the 29th - the anniversary of the massacre at Wounded Knee.

So here it is...


April 4, 2010

Boy, what an obtuse and convoluted and twisted thread my mind sometimes weaves. I friended another blogger on Facebook a few days ago. He happens to live up in the northern plains of Montana - somewhere along the Yellowstone River, or perhaps the Bighorn. Where exactly is not important.

Anyway, whilst doing my thing on Facebook, I noticed an interesting dialog between him and a friend of his - about tango. It's some "good stuff" on a subject near and dear to my heart - which we will eventually get to.

But first, I want to follow my thread. We're off to Inner Mongolia first.

I'm continually intrigued by the geography of tango - where it exists on this planet; where it is danced; where it was planted and is now taking root, and by whom. Occasionally, when I check the stats for this blog, I notice a remote corner of the world that generated a hit. The Namib Desert of Africa generated a hit from Google two years ago - with the search words "tango quotes".

The other day there was a hit from Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia - with the search string "electricity production", which probably came from this.

So, I found it interesting to find a couple of dudes on Facebook having this very deep-tango-though-ish discussion way up in Montana. I already knew there was tango up there in the Big Sky country. A few of those folks always trickled down to the Denver festivals. Montana and Idaho tango folks. Anyway, interesting. So I got their permission to lift their conversation and put it in here. Eventually. Way down there at the bottom. Feel free to skip ahead and avoid my drivel.

Sam (the blogger I mentioned) posted something about going to the funeral of a friend's daughter in Crow Agency, the "capital" of the Crow Nation. That was my starting point. Just out of curiosity, I wanted to see where that was in my world. I always need to do that when geography is on my mind - look at an analog map. Good old fashioned paper. I had to go digging for my road atlas up in the studio. Don't forget the magnifying glass. Ah, there it is.

I started out looking for an appropriate image to lead this post with. The first thing that came to mind was a photo of some verdant northern plains grasslands - preferably just rolling native tall-grass prairie. No such luck. I didn't look too hard - found some with tatanka grazing(Lakota Sioux for bison/buffalo) - some with tipis. All too stereotypical for what I had in mind.

I was trying to make a geographic tie to Montana to the spot on this Earth where this post originated. This land. This Mother Earth of ours.

Looking at all of the images, looking at the maps, reading and remembering the names of the rivers and the mountain ranges - all of it unleashed a flood of memories and emotions for me. I could feel it welling up inside me. Artesian-like.

Now I'm fucking crying. I hate it when that shit happens.

I've never been to Montana, but I have spent some time in the Wind River Range of Wyoming. Lander. Dubois. Pinedale. I went in one side of the range and came out on the other side 33 days later. Backpacking and mountaineering. With a 90 pound pack. I was at my healthiest and strongest in that summer of 1978. Sweet memories of mountains and women and the drive from Lafayette, Louisiana in my loaded-for-bear VW Rabbit. The Green River (other side of the divide) has huge meaning for me, but is a subject for another post. Grasshopper Creek and the "Miraculous Nike Running Shoes In My Size Manifesting Themselves Under a Fallen Spruce Whilst Bushwacking After I Had Blown Out My Own Shoes On An Eleven Mile Cache/Resupply Hike Story". Bathing in a creek that flows from beneath a glacier at 10,000 feet or so. (Talk about shrinkage.) Rock climbing in Sinks Canyon. The Popo Agie River. The Wind River. It becomes the Bighorn and flows north into Montana - just past Crow Agency - right through the Crow Nation. Tons of memories almost long forgotten.

I played pool (billiards) that summer of '78 in a smoky dive bar in Lander, Wyoming with a few Shoshone. Or were they Arapahoe? Lander is on the edge of the Wind River Indian Reservation. We played pool until daylight. They took a liking to me and wouldn't let me leave. We got drunk and played pool all night. There is a vague and foggy memory of waking up on a pool table as the morning light streamed in through the door. As I recall I was drunk all the next day, hiking and scrambling around near my campsite in Sinks Canyon on the Popo Agie River all by my lonesome. Me and something big in a cave. Mountain lion? Big enough to turn me around licketysplit. I met a group of girls from New York City that day and was no longer so lonesome - I recently reconnected with one of them on Facebook. Okay, now I'm really digressing.

I'm sensitive to the fact that I'm referencing Native American culture all over the map, literally. The photo at the top is of three Piegan or Blackfoot Chiefs [from northern Montana]. The Wounded Knee Massacre happened in South Dakota and involved the Hunkpapa Sioux. The Wind Rivers are home to the Shoshone and Arapahoe Nations. And the Crow Nation, in southern Montana is close to where Sam lives. (Re-reading this six months after I wrote it (wrote it in April, reading & possibly posting in December, I'm guessing this is probably all wrong...)

I read the book "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" by Dee Brown in 1975, at the age of 15. It's written from the Native American viewpoint. I became very interested in Native American history and culture, very interested in the history of the American West and the culture of the Mountain Men and the fur trade. I read everything I could get my hands on.

I have always taken the counter-view (to the norm of the majority, I suppose) with regard to Native Americans. I believe, deeply, that they were wronged by the Wasi'chu. Were, and are now and probably will be forever wronged. That's all I'll say about that, for now, in the interest of brevity. I'm just barely touching the surface of my thoughts on that subject. I've always taken the counter-view with regard to most everything - especially environmental and development related "stuff". I'm not sure why that is, but it is. I used to keep it all to myself, keeping my mouth shut about what I think and feel about the world around me. Forty-seven years of silence is long enough. (Dec 2010 - Forty-seven? Okay, I was forty-nine back in April, so maybe I figgered I didn't start talking, and hence could not yet be "silent" until the age of two...? HTF knows what I was thinking back then...)

Montana and the other northern plains states encompass some beautiful country. The last remnants of a beautiful people live and love and struggle there. Some tango has taken root up there, and I feel blasphemous to even make the tie, but the tie is there. The tie that binds.

Here is Sam's blog. It's called "Men...101".

And here, finally, is that dialog about Tango from Facebook:

Sam: Tango instructors: Teach the system, not the style. You can quote me on that.

Ken: However, I'm not quite sure how one separates it out? How is style different from system? Are there fundamentals or not? And, from what I understand, there is great argument about "the true tango"?

Sam: I should probably keep my mouth shut and wait (generations?) for them to figure it out. But, as I am impatient, I'll borrow and paraphrase definitions from a skilled teacher of motion (thanks Skip): "SYSTEM - The unification of related concepts, principles, ideas, facts, truths, and basic elements of (Argentine tango). STYLE - The manner in which an individual applies and executes the (tango) they have learned."

Sam: The "true tango" debate is probably not different from the "pure karate" debate Ed Parker had with traditional martial artists. It is probably inevitable that this occurs with tango, especially as it spreads to other countries. The Argentines will lose CONTROL over it - with a predictable outcome.

Sam: Looking at my old notebooks now, and thinking of all the nifty little ideas employing simple definitions (from Kenpo) to tango: theory of proportional dimensions, ideal phase, what-if and formulation phases, extemporaneous and spontaneous action (for Chrissake WHEN is anyone going to get this as a fundamental idea in tango!), tailoring, dimensional sequence of movement, plus countless others that have yet to be developed because we're moving to MUSIC!!!! But . . . I'm ranting.

Sam: Of course, tango has spread to other countries. Time is slowly beginning to tell, with the debate about "true tango." How long has this been going on? Decades? And there must be fundamentals. The embrace we use is a convention, with basics emerging as 'form to function.' The fact that it's hard for someone who's been doing tango for a while to name and describe some of the fundamentals is atrocious, and speaks to the RELATIVE INFANCY of it - and perhaps the EGOIC BASE and lack of EMPATHY, or BEGINNER'S MIND (a feature particular to a master) among some of the advanced practitioners and teachers. It's not rocket science - why not break it down so others can learn it!

Sam: Now I'm on a roll. FURTHERMORE - there's the whole "gender thing" to consider. Far be it from me to express a humble opinion there . . . 'cause most of my opinions are not humble . . . or within apology. I'm about to choke the next person who uses some poor-white-trash-gender stereotype to get their "teaching point" across. On another topic: ...If someone wants to teach tango, fine. Lead or follow for at least 500 hours. 'Nuff said. Learn to correct "mistakes" without even saying a word. Find a minimum of 5 basics/fundamentals, and be able to use beginner, intermediate, and advanced dance "moves" to express them. (However, I don't think the dance is in the "moves," it's in the passionate, physical manifestation of the music, but that's something else. Nothing like seeing a bunch of fancy moves WITH NO PASSION. Testosterone should ooze from a man with his every step. WOW, that's good! Someone please, please quote me on that!) Oh, and learn a simple way to make beginners value basics so that they want to practice on their own. I can go on and on . . . think I've bottled this up for a while?

Ken: Or, that tango is culture and not "science." The same debate goes on in capoeira which was a folkloric form learn from body to body, without words. As it became a "performance" and subject to "academic" or "scientific" standards, it changed.

From what I can tell the old milongueros danced and had a way of teaching body to body, just as the old capoeira players. And, with the arrival of the Japanese teachers, who had forms and close to 300 years of western influence, the old capoeira players were forced to change.

Much the same is happening with tango. You might find the "tango discovery" series interesting...

My objection is that this approach replaces poetry with steps and stages.

Me, I like history and poetry.

Ken: Oh, well, while I was writing the above, you took off on a whole other tack. Yes, there should be drama in the simple forms. And, there should be music in every step. And, learning a lot of maneuvers is not enough :o)

But, that is what the Argentine's say -- tango without heart and passion, it is so English :o)

Ken: Oh, from what I've read, the old milongueros learned the "women's" part before they learned the "man's." As to gender roles, think Jung, think the deep archetypes. Dance is seduction, and seduction plays off the deep and classic patterns of romance and gender identity -- as understood in a culture. It ain't rocket science, thank G-d !! And, it ain't gymnastics, either.

Sam: I think the dance evolves within the individual, given a self-value system that a) inclines one to evolve, because b) mastery and self-evolution are inherently valuable. It will probably be the yoga people who do tango that bring this to the dance, if the zenned-out conflict avoidance (spiritual bypass) crutch doesn't impede them (not that yoga makes everyone a conflict avoider - most of them aren't).

Ken: OK, I re-read the above and think I understand. Here is where I would disagree. The individual will integrate into tango. Tango is not an individual, it is a community. So, a necessary part of learning tango is learning to be part of the community of tango. This is a complex community which is historic, worldwide and local. It resides between the ... members of the community as they explore not only their transient selves but as they come to be master communicators in the idiom. The idiom includes the classic music of the tango. While non-tango music may be "cute" it is the music that developed with the dance that leads one into the depth of tango.

Sam: The culture of tango and the dance of tango are not separated in my view, either. I think the path evolves from learning fundamentals - and that a beginner should know what some of those are after a few lessons. Because you mention something of communication, I'll use the "language analogy", keeping in mind the co-creative aspect of this (it ...takes two to tango!). Phonetics of motion become letters of motion, which become words of motion, which becomes sentences of motion, which become paragraphs of motion, which eventually leads to the co-creation of a "story" of motion. The common path is to teach "phrases of motion," which are better than nothing, but grossly limited, because the phonetics are not clearly addressed. You can't learn the language, and enter the 'culture' when all you can do is ask where the bathroom is. Problematic, because a) learning "phrases" presents the ILLUSION of learning a language when the speaker has not, and b) learning phrases creates a "rolodex of moves" (which helps create burn-out). The basics, truths, principles of motion, etc. that comprise the fundamentals of tango need to be developed. Create the "grammar for motion," and the "culture of tango" will be more easily accessed. Beginners and intermediates won't have the horrible time some of us had, and are having. Of course, people will lose their authority . .. and status within the culture . . . and students may want to discuss and debate and test concepts . . . but the dance will EVOLVE. Which means some of the egoic midgets (male and female) will have to grow too.

Sam: There are a few teachers out there who teach conceptually. Mike Malixi is one of them. The problem is that people like to "collect" things, such as cool dance moves. Few want to spend much time learning to hold their core, keep their frame from moving (vs. pulling your partner around with your arms), pointing your toe as you step back (which creates that sexy, elegant step so many of us like to watch a woman do), hold forward intention, etc. Of course, a good teacher can use "advanced vocabulary" to teach these principles . . .which makes a beginner see the value in having good basics, which makes them want to practice basics more, which makes them better dancers.

Sam: Short story: I saw my kenpo teacher many, many times teach "advanced techniques" to beginners. Everyone wants to do weapons stuff in the martial arts - it just feels so cool to use a knife, or sword, or staff, or nunchaku, or fight multiple opponents. But you learn that you can hurt YOURSELF more than anyone else if you don't have SOLID BASICS... Which makes new students want to practice basics more . . . And I just gave tango instructors a clue (take two - they're small) how to make their teaching life easier.

Sam: If I had to list the principles of tango, I'd start out with things like core/center, frame, and directional harmony. Students will magnify all the errors in their teacher's motion, so if a teacher isn't getting their own lessons . . . well . . . let's just say it's the difference between pursuing mastery, and pursuing a masterful image. As we used to say in the kenpo world, their is a difference between martial art and partial art.

Ken: Well, there is having fun :o)

END OF FACEBOOK DIALOG

Thanks guys - Sam and Ken - for allowing me to post your conversation. Perhaps our paths will cross one of these days. Let me know if you ever get down this way.

Oh, and one last thought. I do want my heart to be buried somewhere. Right here. Right here on this spot is where I want my heart to lie. In the meadow, near the spot where we make the bonfires. Cremate the rest; sprinkle a little of my dust here, on the ground covering my heart; a vial or two on the pistas of the milongas in Buenos Aires; and keep some in an urn on a shelf. But not for a while. I have more to say. Much more to say and do in this life.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

When The Tango Became Music [by Alberto Paz]

Once again, National Tango Day (Argentina, and globally), December 11, has come and gone without fanfare, at least with regard to this humble blogger. Not just yesterday, but last year as well - not a peep. I just couldn't pull anything out of my proverbial fedora, couldn't come up with anything of any value myself. I Googled around, feebly, looking for an official website, announcement, press release, something, anything to post to mark the day.

But nothing. Nothing came. I pondered this day for a week or so, my computer calendar popping up with a reminder each day, but still nothing.

There is the "Global Milonga" event that uses December 11 - ostensibly in celebration of the National Tango Day or Day of Tango or Dia del Tango - but their mission appears to be more globally oriented, calling attention to the environment, "celebrating Tango's ability to unite and transform" - with this year's theme being to planting trees in the ravaged and struggling country of Haiti.

A good and noble cause, but not what I was looking for.

We had planned to go to a milonga last night, after a very small dinner party with a close friend. I figgered that would be my own little celebration, my own private acknowledgment of the day, to dance a little tango with my love in my arms in honor of this love my tango. But it was not meant to be. Chopin played on a grand piano, with a glass of vino tinto trumps tango. Every time.

So, this morning, booting myself up on Facebook, I was pleased when I read Alberto Paz' piece honoring the day. I couldn't have even come close to anything like this, and Alberto was gracious enough to allow me to re-post it here in its entirety.

I love the natural and innate flow of the Universe, of tango, of this blog, of my life. Everything always seems to come together, falling into place as it was meant to, as it wants to, as it has to. Natural and without force, guided by love and friends and friendship and good, well intentioned energy. The world is as it should be. Mostly. But that, my friends, is the subject of another post, and as usual, I am digressing.

Based out of my childhood home of New Orleans, Louisiana, Alberto is well known for his Planet Tango website and greatly appreciated for his tango lyrics translations, now at Letras de Tango. He's also coming back strong after a serious health scare. We were all worried about him, and the word is he's feeling much better and feeling strong enough to dance again. I'll speak for all of us and extend well wishes to him (and to Valorie) in his continued recovery. They have both been to hell and back - a big Texas hug from me.

So, without further ado, and thanks again Alberto, and take good care of that ticker...

When The Tango Became Music
Posted by Alberto Paz on Sunday, December 12, 2010 at 12:21am

Nearing the end of the first thirty years of the twentieth century, every orchestra sounded more or less the same way as if the original sound born out of many sounds had become a long road to musical boredom. Along the way had traveled the heroic itinerant trios that perched on the corners of tough neighborhoods, the artistic innovation that brought the incorporation of the bandoneon, and the legendary quartets.

To be fair, every ensemble had a leader and everyone attempted to add a bit of his own personal touch, but in general, the styles of the orchestras were so similar that it was hard to tell apart the works of Vicente Greco, Juan Maglio Pacho, Roberto Firpo, Francisco Canaro or Augusto Berto.

Julio De Caro, whose birthday on December 11 contributed to the designation of the date as National Day of Tango in Buenos Aires, broke ranks with the traditional style and led a genuine opening into renovation, a revolution that saved the tango from oblivion. Yet, De Caro did not discard what others had done before. His typical sextet gave new life to some of the greatest creations of Eduardo Arolas and Agustin Bardi.

They amalgamated into a genial coexistence with the new found beauty of the romantic melodies emanating from the creative muse of Juan Carlos Cobian, Osvaldo Fresedo, and Enrique Delfino.

During the early days of the twentieth century very few people stayed in school beyond the third grade and illiteracy in Buenos Aires was very high. Thus the music of the tangos of that period suited very well the simply minds of the audiences. When mandatory public school was established, the popular culture grew up and the music of the tanguitos of Arolas began to be insufficient for the larger intellectual capacity of the new audiences.

This generational change of guard led the Argentine Tango to a musical evolution that paralleled the cultural evolution of the porteño. The sounds of a changing Tango continued to be Tango, much in the same way that an educated porteño continued being a porteño.



History has appointed Julio De Caro, the supreme priest of the major renovation vanguard that took place in the mid 1920’s. The word vanguard had been used mostly in military lingo to identify what is up front, at the leading edge of the battlefield. With the stellar appearance of Julio De Caro, the history of the Tango was divided in two major hemispheres, the pre and post De Caro era. At the helm of the renovation, the sexteto tipico lead by Julio De Caro paved the way for the vanguardistas who continued to advance, faithful to their commitment to always be ahead of the rest.

The concepts and style which have become known as integral parts of the Decarean school, have constituted a standard by which all instrumental renovation of the Tango has been measured, both in terms of authenticity and naturalness. In very simple terms, the Decarean concept was to embellish the melody of the Tango.

In his memoirs, Julio De Caro remembers the time when, as a third violin for one of Cobian’s recording sessions, he found a section of one of the Tangos to be very poor. With no time to write a new arrangement, De Caro decided to add a counterpoint with the intention of embellishing the melody. This addition had very good acceptance but as Cobian found out about the daring modification that De Caro had done, he admonished him reminding him about who was the boss.

This reprimand in lieu of a praise was enough for 24 year-old De Caro to leave the Cobian sextet. He took with him bandoneon players Pedro Maffia and Luis Petrucelli, called upon his brother Francisco to play the piano, drafted Leopoldo Thompson (the inventor of the canyengue sound effect) to play the bass and brought yet another brother, Emilio as a second violin.

Historian Luis Adolfo Sierra has written perhaps one of the most celebrated hyperbole about the De Caro tendencies, “the harmonic accompaniment of the piano, the phrasing and variations of the bandoneons, the counterpoint of the violin knitting melodies of pleasant contrast with the central theme, plus the piano and bandoneon solos expressed with a harmonic and sonorous richness never heard before then, are some of the most valuable contributions that those real innovators introduced in the execution of the Tango.”

Jose Gobello says that what it is most recognizable of the De Caro sextet, is the intention to synthesize the insolence with the romanticism, the rusticity of the outskirts with the refinement from the conservatories. While Julio was best represented by the cheeky twist in (listen to Mala Junta), his brother Francisco embodied the romantic flair of (listen to Flores Negras).


Thanks to Julio De Caro the destiny of the Tango was also in the music, not just in the dance or the singing.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Tango out of the feet of babes...

Silvio La Via & his daughter Estrella...start 'em young...play Golden Age tango to them in the womb...and then watch what happens...

Credit goes to Rigoberto for the find...



They will likely grow up and end up like this...



And here is Geraldine Rojas as a young girl/woman in 1993...dancing with Andres Amarilla of "Tango Cheeseballs" fame...

Monday, May 18, 2009

Tango Demons

I just went-a-checking on my MySpace page after a long hiatus/absence. I had asked another MySpacer if I could post one of her (myspace) blog entries on my blog a long time ago. I thought it was a very good treatment of "tango demons", from a follower's perspective obviously.

It seems that there is an undercurrent of tango demons running through the blog and dancing worlds these days. Things just don't seem to be, or feel, 'in the groove' for many of us. For me, I think it's a natural evolution or growth in my own tango world. I think it's partly due to the ongoing economic destabilization. I've got other things on my mind. There is a world out there that needs changing. Change by sheer force of will by the knowing minority. Change by doing and not talking. As they say, "Lead, follow, or get out of the way..."

Anyway, tango seems to be taking a reduced part in my life - really over the past year. It's as strong as ever in my heart and soul, I think about it every day, but I don't 'need' it as badly as I did in the past. I don't need it as frequently. I developed a 'quality over quantity' mindset fairly early on in my tango. It seems that mindset is solidifying to the point I can go for a few months with no milongas.

My demons. We all have our demons in life, and in our tango. It's part of life and it's part of tango. They will make you a better dancer, those demons will.



So on to the primary subject of this post...

Her name is Carrie Whipple. She's a dancer/teacher/Comme il Faut pusher in Portland. With her permission, here it is...thanks Carrie!


Tango Demons
January 23, 2008
By Carrie Whipple


The last time I visited Argentina, I went reluctantly. I went because I had a plane ticket, purchased a year before, that I'd already postponed once and I couldn't push it back again. I went because I felt like I had to, but I wasn't excited about it.

I was nervous to go because I had recently had a tango epiphany, and it was this: I didn't care. I didn't care about doing the technique of a particular turn perfectly, or of pointing my toes or using my heels or lifting my sternum or tucking in my tailbone. I was over it.

The first two and a half years of my tango life were full of these kinds of obsessions, these tango technique nightmares. I was constantly practicing, even when I was at a milonga, I was always thinking about everything I was doing wrong. Everything that proved I was failing.

Part of this self-destructive mindset was a result my unique situation at the time, which put me under an unusually bright spotlight while out dancing tango, but I now know that this particular brand of self-torture is not uncommon for the women of tango. There's a certain kind of personality that finds herself attracted to this dance. The perfectionist excels here, for a while at least. There's something in the fierce challenge of the dance, it is so hard, and so complex, and there's so much to think about, it's a thrill at first. But for some of us, after a time, it becomes impossible to shut down that internal dialogue cataloging all of your mistakes in your head.

At around that two and a half year marker, my personal life caved in around me, and I just gave up on tango. My situation forced me to realize that I wasn't perfect, that I never would be, and surprise, even if I did manage to attain perfection, it wouldn't make me any more in demand as a partner (in life or tango). In fact, the more precise I became in my technique, the less in demand on the social dance floor I seemed to become. I realized that this was because the unique nature of tango. The teamwork required to dance tango well is so much more important than any one person's individual technique.

Here was my big "I get it" moment: I discovered that I was spending all this time in my head critiquing my dance, and my partners could feel my judgment and they felt that I was judging them. Often, I was. When you're in that self-degrading headspace it just flows right over onto those around you, so of course the person in my arms could feel it. If something wasn't going right, I was quick to judge and blame, both myself and my partner. Neither of us was immune. No fun for my partner, I'm sure. And no fun for me, either. I hated tango. Why am I doing this? I asked, again and again.

So, when my world collapsed, and that critical something in me broke, I gave in to my imperfections. I stopped caring about mistakes, and I just started dancing, and the joy of the partnership was suddenly clear to me in a way it hadn't been before. Suddenly, I realized that there was a human being on the other side of my embrace. A person who had maybe had a really rough day at work, or had just received great news from far away, or had just eaten a huge dinner and felt uncomfortable with me leaning against his spaghetti belly. A person who had his own things going on, someone outside my perfectionism, a partner to meet in the middle. It took me out of my head, my relentless thoughts, and gave me something else to focus on, which was good for me.

This was my mindset when I realized I had a free ticket to BsAs that was nearing its expiration date. Going to Argentina was scary for me because I didn't know how to hold on to this new side of tango, the part outside my head. I was worried about the dance floors of Buenos Aires, with all of those experienced dancers sitting on the sides watching everything. And talking about it. I was terrified of dancing with the old milongueros who seemed to be looking for something in me that I wasn't sure I had, even with all that technique. I was worried that I'd slip back into my head too easily if I didn't learn how to stop myself.

So, I made a choice. A choice that seemed incredulous to those whom I told about it. I decided not to take any privates and few classes during my two months in Argentina. I decided to go to the milongas and practicas, and just dance. That's it.

I had demons I was wrestling. Personal, internal, and mean. I needed to focus on the really hard parts of tango. Not the physical, where-do-I-put-my-foot-during-that-sacada parts, but the really hard stuff; the emotional and mental sides of tango. The fears and self-doubt that come up when so-and-so doesn't ask you to dance, or when he does ask you to dance and you mess up. The feelings of exclusion and not being good enough, and even just the incredible frustration of the learning process. These are the hard parts. These are the things I was working on during my last trip to BsAs. I didn't want technique to distract me from that stuff, as it had for the two years before.

And, I believe that that's really the moment that I became a good dancer. It was when I stopped caring about the stuff that really doesn't matter. The partnership. Mutual respect, teamwork, compassion, that's the good stuff.

I'm writing about this now, 2 years later, because I am finding that the stumbling blocks for my students in tango aren't the moves, the steps, the physical parts, though those things can be challenging, for sure. I find that people give up on tango because of the emotional and mental sides of tango. The social interactions that irritate, the frustrations of the learning curve, the downward spiral, all of that. Those things that cause the exact same problems in one's everyday life, but are magnified in tango because of its intensity. People don't leave because they are unable to master ganchos. They leave because they don't want to deal with their demons, and I think that you have to, to stay in tango.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Milonga Campera :: Ezequiel Farfaro y Milena Plebs

I think this is from CITA 2003 [Congreso Internacional de Tango Argentino] - the CITA dvd with some of the best performances ever, in my view. The audio is de-synched a bit. In the original (on the dvd), their musicality is dead on.

These are two dancers with no pretense whatsoever, and it shows in their dance.

Also, please note that this is "NOT" nuevo tango.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

What Level Tango Dancer Am I?

From Clay Nelson, organizer of the tango festivals up in Portland, I think ValenTango and one or two others. I think this document can be useful, or at least interesting. This has been floating around for some time - forgive me if I already posted it.

What Level Tango Dancer Am I

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Everybody knows this, right?


here i am
Originally uploaded by leone.



I was talking to a friend the other day and she was telling me about a guy who is teaching now with his partner. I used to call him "Rico Suave", but that was before I knew him. He's actually a really nice guy - a kid really.

My friend had danced with him at a milonga and was talking about the lack of connection with him. She attributed it to the fact that his dancing is all about him. His steps, his sequences, his embellishments, the way he looks. She can feel that he is focused on himself and his dancing and not her. He's dancing with himself.

It struck me after our conversation that everyone (leaders - especially beginners) might not know this - that this will screw with your tango - it's the me/ego mindset.

Tango is all about the woman. It's about making her feel good and safe and making her feel beautiful and special in those nine minutes on the floor. Leaders have to focus on the "her" and the "now". Her. Now. This moment. This connection. This dance. This tanda.

Focus your thoughts and energy on her. Think about her feet, not yours. Think about what you want her feet to do. Beginners have the disadvantage of having to think about steps and sequences and weight transfers and the minutiae. Being able to think about her will come, in time. Try it some time though, even if just for a minute of one song. Focus your thoughts and energy on her. See how it feels.

For me, when I realized this a couple of years ago, and when I was able to manifest this all the time in my dance, it was a breakthrough. A defining moment. An epiphany.

Sometimes we forget about the basic, underlying principles, and just have to be reminded.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Lo que vieron tus ojos :: Francisco Lomuto

I just woke up, wide awake from another tango dream.

The only thing I remember from the dream is that this song was playing. A vals.

It's my favorite vals.

Here are Thierry LeCocq & Delphine Blanco dancing to it...don't watch, just listen...



Actually, now that I am up and working on my DJ'ing...it may have been this one that was playing in my dream..."Pobre Flor" by Alfredo DeAngelis...a "superfast" vals...my second favorite...

Here are Gustavo y Giselle dancing to it...again...included here for the music, not necessarily the dancing...although I do like the "floating leaf" back sacada thing that he does...that they do...

Friday, March 14, 2008

Atlanta Tango Weekend :: Part II :: The Perfect Connection

ALX_0038_BW

"Followers who know how to follow and feel good doing it."

This was the last sentence of my prior post so I will continue with that thought.

What exactly is it that makes some followers "feel good" and some followers feel "not-so-good"? (This is from my perspective as a leader, but is also true for followers - some leaders feel good, and some don't...)

Is it some elusive nebulous quality?

Is it the experiential/intellectual? Is it her years of tango experience - what she has learned and what she knows how to do?

Is it quantum physics - what she is thinking about, combined in the metaphysical soup between us - intertwined with what I am thinking about? Is it how her/my day went, how her/my week is going, how her/my life is going?

Is it the visual stimuli - the way she looks? Her body type? Her figure? Do I have to find her attractive for this feeling to work? Is it what she is wearing - perhaps showing a little skin in a few of the right places?

Is it chemically induced - whether or not she is drinking wine tonight or just took a Xanax or is on Prozac or Zoloft? Or could it be the olfactory sensory stimuli that I recieve and react to - the smell of her hair, her skin, her b.o.? Or the reverse - her reactions to my scent(s)? Maybe it's some kind of pheromone thing.

Is it the way she feels - the tactile? Is it how she feels when I embrace her - the multitude of physical sensations - the brush of her hair against my arm, the feeling of her hand in my hand, the feeling of her breasts smashed against my chest, the feeling of her cheek or forehead against me? Is it the flutter of her heart that I can detect against my skin?

Is it because she knows how to relax? Is it the energy of the venue, the room, the other dancers, the feel of the floor beneath our feet? Of course it is the music - it is always the music. Is the alignment of the planets - the moon and the stars?

Is it because she knows how to surrender?

I think it is all of these things, combined into one single moment of union with another human being. At the risk of seeming silly, I don't think George Lucas was too far off when he wrote of "The Force" in the Star Wars movies. "The Force is strong with this one."

Is it a synchronicity with the life force, everything that binds us together individually and collectively? The force that binds and drives everything in the universe? The rotation and the orbit of a planet. What of a water droplet that falls from the sky and lands on a leaf in the Amazonian rainforest, and then wends its way through the global hydrologic system - nurturing and nourishing plants and creatures?

That force - the perfection of nature and the universe. The perfection of the human body, mind, soul, psyche. The joys and the horrors of the human experience and all its machinations, trials and tribulations, trappings and travails.

The perfection of the perfect tango. The perfection of the perfect connection.

All I know is that I know it when I feel it. And when I don't.

Stay tuned for Part III.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Going to Buenos Aires

A couple of really great posts by Tina at Siguiendo Mi Corazón prompted me to write about my one trip to Buenos Aires (so far). Her posts are "The Ghost" and "Tango is...que se yo"...

At a milonga this past weekend, I met a gentleman who is new to tango. He has been dancing for six months. He is going with a group of people to CITA (Congreso Internacional de Tango Argentino) this week in Buenos Aires. For those of you who may not know, CITA is organized by Fabian Salas and is billed as the "mega" tango event. This one is the 10th annual.

My first thought when this gentleman told me he was going to CITA that it was that it was way too early for him to be going. To Buenos Aires that is. But who am I to judge? Personally, going during the CITA event would be the worst possible time to go - with crowds of tourists at the milongas. I can't imagine that you could come away with a true picture, a true feeling, a true experience, of Buenos Aires and its tango culture.

This gentleman was talking about how much he was looking forward to dancing in the milongas there - talking about how crowded the dance floors would be in comparison to the milonga we were attending. Little does he know.

He was a nice gentleman, trying to draw me out of my solitary chair in the corner by inviting me to his table of friends. Shortly after our conversation, I changed my shoes and left. I was in a mood. Not because of this, but something else.

Going to Buenos Aires is like a journey to mecca. Many of us dream of going, but never do. Some are lucky/determined enough to go every year, or once every few years. I would hope that this gentleman is humbled by his trip to Buenos Aires. It can, and should be, a humbling experience.

I think some people "get" tango, and some never do. I "got it" fairly early in the process. Primarily because I availed myself of everything I could get my hands on to read about and understand "el tango". History, music, composers, orchestras, dancers - books, the internet, talking to more experienced dancers - I educated myself - and I continue to do so three and half years later. Learning and dancing. I wanted to understand, to "know". As in "knowing" versus "knowledge". I wanted it to seep into my soul and my bones. And it has, with a vengeance. I have been possessed (in the best sense of the metaphysical concept) by Tina's "El Duende".

For me, I was humbled by tango from the start. The thought of actually going to Buenos Aires in those early months never occured to me. I knew I would go eventually, but I also knew I was not ready. I had started taking tango classes two and half years earlier when I finally made the trip last April. For me, it was also my first international travel (besides Mexico). My passport was brand-spanking-new. It was a long overdue adventure for me.

Even at this point in my tango evolution, I knew I was not ready. It was a timing thing wherein an opportunity to go presented itself. I had to go. This might be my only chance, I thought to myself. I will repeat myself - I knew I was not ready to go. My dance was not ready. I had been dancing all those months in a very small community - with lots of room - too much room on the dance floor. My milonguero vocabulary was lacking. I could use up ten feet on the line of dance to do a turn. I needed to be able to do a pinpoint giro on a dime. I worked on this in intensive privates for two months prior to my departure.

And still, I was not ready. As humble as I already was, I knew I was in for more humbling, I was expecting it, welcoming it with open eyes, arms, mind, heart and soul. I did not go to Buenos Aires to dance. I was smart enough to know that I would not be doing a lot of dancing with porteñas - I expected none - and I got none - zero, nada, zilch. I viewed my trip as a learning and life experience. It was my first "real" trip to a foreign country, so that was exciting. It was an opportunity for me to take a six day intensive workshop with Gustavo y Giselle, as well as a few privates with other teachers. It was an opportunity for me to "experience" the milongas and the tango culture. It was an opportunity for me to experience Buenos Aires, the city, the people, the culture, the architecture, the history. The sights, sounds and smells. I experienced the most bizarre, otherworldly thunderstorm of my life.

With regard to dancing (or not), a friend told me the key for American men to get dances is to walk in like you own the place - it's all about your attitude. But, your dancing ability has to back it up. Mine didn't. My cabeceo sucked. As much as I had read up on it, it just wasn't working. So I sat a lot. I watched. I got drunk. I didn't "walk in like I owned the place" - I walked in like I was a friend of a friend of a 1/24th time share owner.

With regard to the G&G workshop, I knew the moment our small group walked in to Leonesa that my partner and I were in over our heads. Big time. The other forty or so students were professional dancers and teachers. That first day I got my head straight about it - I said to myself, "Self, do the workshop, do your best, and if you retain nothing whatsoever, that's okay. The experience and the workshop material will eventually sink in and you will be a better dancer because of it." And I was, or I am. The followers back in Aspen noticed a difference in my lead when I got back. It's been gradually improving over the past year - fits and starts - hills and gullies - but improving it is. I'm still working on the material from that workshop a year later.

That first day of the workshop, I almost walked back to pack my bags and fly home.

The second day of the workshop, I almost walked back to pack my bags and fly home.

The third day things started to kick in a little bit. The fourth, fifth and sixth days were much better. Lack of confidence can be a killer. It's totally counterproductive in tango - it murders a lead.

In the end, the trip was not about the dancing, it was not about the technique classes, but about the life experience for Alex. It was about "getting it". Tango made more sense to me. The milongas, the culture, the city, the lifestyle - it was but a short glimpse. I went for all the wrong reasons. I went when I was not ready. But I am still glad that I went. It changes you. It possesses you. You could probably go there, just stay in a hotel in the city for night, and fly away the next day a better dancer. It's hard to explain. I'm connected to it all - by a thread of energy.

I'm at a point now in my life now that I don't know if I will ever go back. It saddens me to "hear" myself write this. I can't see it in my life for at least another year. I would like to go back and be able to spend a month - go down to Tierra del Fuego - and see the country.

Going to Buenos Aires after dancing tango only six months, going to CITA, expecting to dance at the milongas - people (leaders) like this just don't get it. It's too bad.

(Random thought::The BsAs experience is a different one for followers - if you have been you know what I mean. I may touch on this in another post.)