The Responsibilities of a Milonga Host

A recent post over at Tangologue got my juices going. When people start to learn YouTube tango, who will tell them about technique, floor craft, common sense and consideration for others?

I think that a responsible teacher is the first line of defense against this sort of nonsense. It seems intuitive to me that they would point out that fancy show steps do not belong on a crowded dance floor. But it would seem, from the multitudes of lacerating heels flailing about, that many are falling down on their jobs.

The second line of defense are milonga hosts. And I am certain that milonga hosts everywhere (save for BA), cringe at the thought of approaching someone to tell them to take it easy. Not only do they have enough things to worry about, including whether or not the music is adequate, there are enough snacks, and making sure people are having a nice time, now they have to babysit the brats too?

Well, yes. Part of "having a nice time" includes not getting injured.

But the idea of approaching someone who is obviously having a grand time (to the detriment of everyone around them), is repugnant because - especially in the US - it goes directly against the concept of personal freedoms of expression. Whereas in BA, the respect for tango and it's culture is far stronger than that of freedom of expression. In other words, the rights of the many exceeds the rights of the individual.

At the milongas there I have seen seasoned dancers very aptly and wordlessly get a loose cannon under control, by simple navigation movements and well placed elbows and back steps. Almost all the errant dancers figured it out pretty quickly. Those that did not received discreet visits from the host or hostess who whispered magic words that made the idiocy stop.

I wish milonga hosts would realize that if Crazy Legs is allowed to carry on without censure of any sort, ultimately their milonga will suffer. The better dancers will go somewhere else, if just to escape the buffoons. And it needn't be a showdown at the OK Corral; a few words about respecting the space of others', and modulating steps to accommodate the crowd, would (hopefully) suffice. It would also be nice if seasoned dancers, would help as well, but perhaps this is asking too much :-)

For YouTubers, what we need are videos explaining - and illustrating - how to behave (and dance) at milongas.

Thing Girls Like (and Don't Like) in a Tango Partner

Like:

1. Gentle but firm embrace.
2. Clean clothes.
3. Subtle after-shave.
4. Respect for the musical pauses.
5. Deodorized.
6. Extra hanky for the ladies.
7. Genuine compliments.

Dislike:

1. Anaconda, vice-grip embrace.
2. Moldy t-shirt smelling of last week's many milongas.
3. Inuendoes.
4. Bad breath.
5. Talking while dancing.
6. The aroma of fermented cheeses anywhere in the vicinity of our nose.
7. This.

Technology: Off-Topic?

I received this extraordinary video from a non-Tango friend. It shows a water balloon being burst by a pin. The kicker: it was filmed with an ultra-high speed camera invented by the Japanese (who else!?).



The camera shoots full color images at 2000 frames per second, in high-resolution. The resulting "slow motion" transforms even a messy, bursting balloon a work of art.

So it got me thinking, what if all those people desperately trying to learn tango in such a hurry were to slow down? Perhaps we'd have a lot more "art" than "mess" on our dance floors?

Accessorising for Tango?

Apparently, I'm on a fashion jag...

I recently came across this post at thecoveted.com. It seems "gradient tights" are all the rage now in the upper, rarefied circles of high fashion. And this darn photo is haunting me:




Now, I don't usually wear pantyhose when I dance. Not only are the hot and uncomfortable when you dance a lot, they also tend to last less than a tanda or two before developing an Autobahn of runs from wayward stilettos.

However...

I find something deeply appealing about these particular stockings. And Jennine has even provided what appears to be an absurdly easy (and inexpensive) way to create this look from regular pantyhose. I might just have to try it! But not for Tango....

What do you think?

When Practice Makes Perfect

It is not often we have the priceless opportunity to see our Tango heroes before they become just that. I recently came across this video of Geraldine Rojas before she became Geraldine!

Aside from the fact that she's barely more than a mere child (!!!), please note that still missing are her slinky walk, her laser-precise foot placement, and any sense of real balance. In fact, she looks downright klutzy, even tentative in her whip-like movements (such as boleos and ganchos). Her ankles are wobbly, and her pivots lethargic. And finally, it is painfully clear they are dancing choreographed steps.

Yes, she is adorable and shows great "promise", but here is proof positive that enormous amounts of really hard work can turn a good dancer into an Immortal. That, and the fact that she's been dancing for more than 15 years...

More Tango (?) Fashion...

For those who are still recovering from my last fashion post, here's something else to get you gasping...



In case you can't tell, those are all balloons...

Brought to you by the, er, twisted minds over at Secondose, where more insanity reigns.

Bloggus Interruptus...

... in order to celebrate Valentine's Day.

A Universe of love at all of you!

Technical Series Coda - Style

The only thing left in our progress towards technically proficient, highly musical, and expressive Tango dancers is the matter of interpretation. Some people would call it "style". And sadly, too often we start out trying to find our "style" before we can even walk.

Every master, from Cachafaz to Chicho Frumboli, had already danced for many years before their own unique "style" began to emerge. "Style" evolves organically, from the way our own bodies move and the way we hear and interpret the music. Copying or imitating the way other people dance does not lead to the development of our own style. Neither does a forced "trying to be different" approach. To the contrary, these approaches can actually inhibit the discovery and evolution of our own true individual style.

For most of us, our first encounter with Tango is completely supernatural; we are bowled over, thunder-struck, overwhelmed, and deeply inspired. So it is only natural that we want to stand out with our own unique expression of Tango. But there is no need to worry!! Each of us hears, feels, and expresses themselves in life - as in Tango - in very unique and individual ways for an infinite number of reasons, which include education, cultural background, physiology, psychology, mood. Even physical obstacles such as hearing problems may contribute to our interpretation; an insensitivity to high notes makes bass tones (rhythm) our guide - which tends to produce more rhythmic dancing, while loss of lower frequencies has us following treble (melody), and tends to produce more lyrical dancing.

Which line of music we follow directly impacts the type of dance we do. In addition, our levels of fitness, flexibility, and emotive ability will further determine if our movements are choppier (and more appropriate for rhythmic dancing) or more ligato (and thus better suited for melodic dancing). While many of us will dance both rhythmically and melodically well to a certain degree, few of us are dexterous enough to be highly proficient at both.

The point is that given a room full of people doing the exact same step, we are not going to do it exactly the same as anyone else. Even if we try. Even if we are almost identical in physiques, there are so many other variables that come into play that, although we can certainly imitate and approximate someone else's movements, we will never really be exactly like them.

Which is why, when people say to me "I want to dance like you", I respond "you should want to dance like you". Because, while I am very flattered that they consider me worthy of imitation, it would always be just that: imitation of my dancing, which I do with my body, my life experience, my likes and dislikes, etc. And when we are imitating someone else, we are not doing justice to our own possibilities and potential, which may be far more brilliant than anyone else's.

When standing at the start line of Tango, a beginner should be looking at the general style of dance they wish to learn (open embrace, "fantasia", salon), and not necessarily the interpretation of the teachers. Because hopefully, they will find a teacher who will instill all the necessary technical tools, but encourage the student's own interpretation of the music. [It is also important to remember that brilliant performing does NOT necessarily translate into brilliant teaching, or vice versa: brilliant teaching into breathtaking performing.]

As much as those of us with experience try to encourage beginners to take their time in learning Tango, and especially to get the fundamentals of good technique under control before heading for the stars, the advice tends to fall on deaf ears. There is something so stirring and powerful about this dance that we just want to be fabulous at it immediately. So we go for the results, not realizing that it is a long road - a real process - to get to that place of interpretive genius. Without experience, our critical eye is caught by the flash and the sizzle of show steps and frenzied embellishing. These are far easier to "fake" because all that motion hides poor balance, floppy footwork, uncertain axis. When asked to simply "walk" in Tango embrace, those of us who skipped the basics are flummoxed by how difficult this can be.

I did not mean for this post to become a lecture...

I apologize for that. But in a sense, getting to the description of "style" is as much a process as it is to learn tango. Each step along the way is built upon that which we have just learned. If we try to build a tower on a weak foundation, it will topple, and we will have to start again - with the added burden of having to first remove the debris.

Now would be the time for an example. We are drawn to a particular teacher because of how they move. Let's say the de Fazio brothers, whose exciting foot punctuations we believe to be perfection on earth. So we start adding "picadas" (toe taps) to our dancing. If we do not have proper technique under our belt, these adornments can interfere with the rhythm (by not placing them in the right place musically), our partner's steps and/or feet (by being unaware of where our feet are in relation to theirs), our very partnership (by being so intent on adorning as to render our partner invisible).

I have written before about my own efforts at adding adornments to my dancing when I was just a beginner. I only succeeded in tripping over myself, over my partner, causing spectacular bruises on my own shins and feet, and ruining an untold number of stockings. I was fortunate to realize on my own that the adornments had to evolve naturally, and that applying them artificially, as "learned", they would always appear "fake" and pasted on. It wasn't until about two or three years later that one night I realized my feet had performed an embellishment all on their own, to the music, without causing any injuries or interference to anyone.

Embellishments
Perhaps the icing on the Tango cake is how we embellish or adorn our steps. With classes and numerous videos devoted to adornos, or Tango "embellishments", it is easy to believe that they are the key to expressive dancing and personal style, with "the more, the better" the logical extension of that belief. Some professional dancers are masters at this skill and they use them prolifically, which clearly fires the imaginations of the rest of us.

The result is that regardless of our skill level, we rush out to take embellishment classes, watch YouTube embellishment videos, and spent gobs of time in front of the mirror trying to make our feet do all those complex moves we see our Tango heroes doing. Then we frill up each and every step with as many curly-cues as is humanly possible. But here's the deal: no matter how delicious the icing, if we smear it all over an uncooked cake, it is going to be a mess.

I cannot help but feel that extreme embellishment is a poor substitute for Musicality, in the same way that exclamation points are a poor substitute for a weak sentence. The minute we think "Wow! Those are incredible embellishments!!" we are no longer appreciating the partnership or the musicality, but only on the embellisher's feet. In addition, our dancing takes on a cluttered and messy look, almost as though we do not trust that all the other elements of Musicality and Musical Expression will properly convey this enormous amount of feeling that wants to explode out of us.

However, the paradox is that the opposite is true. When properly chosen and judiciously placed, one or two embellishments can express far more than thirty or forty. If we revisit my post on Musicality and Musical Expression and the two videos I mentioned (Gavito's and Natacha's), we can see that at most, they have added 4 or 5 embellishments each. And yet, one could hardly find more musically expressive dancers anywhere. In addition, each has a very unique "style": Gavito is very dramatic and intense, making exceptional use of long yet "filled" pauses, while Natacha is exceptionally precise and musical (herself moving like a musical instrument), completely filling every single space between the notes with her presence.

I contrast their use of embellishments with this particular video of Geraldine and Javier. Considered by many to be at or near the top of the Tango heap, her adornments here literally take center stage - we become fixated with all the flicking and kicking and tapping of her feet, to the detriment (IMHO) of the extremely romantic and lyrical piece. While they may show dexterity and rhythm, they are not "musical".

So the answer to Musicality lies not in the embellishments themselves, but how we apply them selectively to our dancing. The key word here is "selectively", using them as a highlighter on a long paragraph. If we highlight every other sentence, then the highlighted sections loose their importance. The entire paragraph becomes important, and no particular sentence stands out. Of course, our "style" could be that of Exceptional Embellisher, but since embellishing is a detail, that is all anyone would focus on - to the detriment of Musicality and Partnership.

Other Elements of Style
Of course, embellishing is only one of many things that dictates individual style. There are many other elements which affect our bodies in ways that express our feelings through our movements, such as speed, playfulness, body posture, elegance, creativity, and flexibility, among many others.

The Hermanos Macana, as already mentioned, are known not only for their incredible technical prowess, but also their humor. Thierry le Cocq has crazy feet. Hugo (of Hugo and Miriam) moves with lightning speed. In this video, he does an a highly complex move with such speed and dexterity (at 2:18) as to deceptively make it seem fit for beginners. Miriam, while usually very dramatic, shows a very playful side (beginning at 1:59). Playfulness also describes Murat and Michelle's dancing style.

Certain posture elements also translate into personal style. Older "milongueros" had bent knees, crooked posture (although it isn't clear as to whether this was due to age and/or choice :-), and/or walked picking their feet up off the floor instead of gliding them along, such as Marta and Manolo illustrate in this "canyengue" style milonga. This is clearly a style of dance, but those elements often make their way into one's personal style, as Chicho Frumboli illustrates in this video. Here we see not only the foot-lifting style that made him famous, but also his stupendous creativity which earned him a place as one of the "godfathers" of "Nuevo Tango". I can almost guarantee he did not start out dancing that way!

Personal style, then, can be expressed through an almost infinite array physical and/or emotional elements, but almost always develops on its own. We don't go out hunting for us; it finds us when we're good and ready to allow it, when we have paved the road for it with all our hard work. The most influential and admired dancers are those who have worked their way up through the many levels of learning: technique, rhythm, and musicality and musical expression. Theirs is a long-haul tango, which shows patience and pedigree, not a goal-oriented, rushed tango that is hollow and superficial.

Tango has often been described as a "process". It is also a journey which many of us feel will last a lifetime. Along the way, there will be plenty of time to pick up those personal mementos which in Tango we call "style".

Technical Series Part 3 - Musicality and Musical Expression

So,we've been practicing our balance, can recognize and control our own axis, have nailed our posture, and can perceive even the subtlest weight change. We have been listening to tango 24/7 and can pick out even the trickiest rhythm patterns in every piece of music. We've done walking exercises and explored every conceivable combination of rhythms, unerringly stepping out on the up- or down-beat every time. Even while holding a partner.

Now what?

Are we now "musical"? Possibly, but we are definitely "rhythmic", and that's a very good start.

Now our mind, body, and inner tanguero/a are ready to explore that interpretive mystery we call "musicality". The quality that makes great dancers look like they are not only part of each other, but part of the music itself. But before I start discussing Musicality directly (and its close but distinct relative "Musical Expression"), I need to expand my thoughts on music a little further.

In my last post on Rhythm, I discussed two of the several "layers" of music: rhythm and melody. If Rhythm is the "heartbeat" of music, the Melody is its "soul". The emotions and moods of the music are expressed through the melody. When we say a song is "happy", or "melancholic", or "playful", we are responding to the feelings elicited by the way the melody is being played.

Musicality
To try to describe Musicality with words is like trying to describe an elusive, spiritual quality. Some folks are innately "musical". Their bodies somehow naturally soak up the sound and exude it through their every movement. Most of us have to learn that. Some of us never will.

Everyone - except perhaps those with severe auditory problems - can "hear" music. But listening to music is only half of the musicality equation; the passive half. The other half, of course, is moving to it; the active half. The ability to bridge the two halves - making your body obey what you hear - is "musicality". And everyone knows that the challenge lies between admitting the notes into our ears and having them come out of our feet and bodies.

In addition, the movement choices should aesthetically compliment the music. In other words, they must obey the dynamics of the music. This is clearly a very subjective thing, which is why we disagree about whether dancers are "musical" or not. Some dancers make "opposite" choices to the music: highly aggressive movements to delicate passages, or vice versa - they choose to counterbalance the dynamics by either moving very slowly during a particularly animated part, or doing many fast movements to a slow portion. The point is, one can be "musical" without necessarily pleasing everyone.

There is a misconception that "musicality" is about "feeling the music", which is not the same as expressing that feeling while dancing. It is not even close. If it was as simple as that, I wouldn't be writing this post, and people would not be pondering about it. I can't think of anyone I've met in Tango who does not "feel the music". The trick is to have those feelings fit into the musical math and have our bodies respond naturally, expressing those emotions through our movements.

Another misconception exists regarding "improvisation", which does not mean doing anything that comes to mind whenever we want. The only time we can do that with any degree of success is if we are dancing alone, without a partner of any sort. To improvise while holding someone, requires that certain rules be followed in order for both partners to be able to improvise together. Jazz, often compared to Tango due to its improvisational nature, would be impossible if each musician did whatever they wanted! For them to produce a unified - yet improvised - sound, they must obey certain basic rules. In Tango, one of those rules is to obey the music. And the challenge of improvising is to match our movements to the tone, tempo, and mood of the music in that very moment.

Musicality for a dancer is the ability to match our movements to the moods - or "dynamics" - of the music, as well as to convey the same emotional expression of the song. It is more than simply moving rhythmically to the music. We would not move the same way while dancing to "Hotel Victoria" as to "Remembranza", even if we are dancing with perfect rhythm to each. For starters, one is highly staccato while the other is highly lyrical.

There are several variables to consider when "interpreting" music with our movements. In addition to "mood", we have quick, staccato movements (for D'Arienzo-type music) or lyrical ones (as with Pugliese-style music). We may use the exact same steps while dancing to these two musical extremes, but must "express" them very differently. Sometimes, the speed of the music precludes the use of certain steps. And musical styles such as "canyengue" and "candombe" offer an added concern, having their own unique steps and style.

Also, we must acknowledge and interpret the changes in mood that occur in so many tangos. Some dramatic songs have relatively "upbeat" passages, and some very playful tangos have a sudden serious moment. [I think this is why I don't feel particularly drawn to "nuevo" music: to my ear it has far less varied dynamics than traditional tango.] If we are to express Musicality, we need to adjust the dynamics of our movements with those of the music as they happen.

Musical Expression
So far I have discussed Technique (the "gravity" aspect of our movements), Rhythm (the core, or "heartbeat" of Musicality), and Musicality itself (how we process musical sound and emotion through movement). However, there is still one final element I'd like to discuss, which I call Musical Expression. It is the final detail of our movements, expressed not only by our entire bodies, but by our very feet, our embrace, and the moments "between the notes". Even how we step - the way in which our feet touch the ground - must convey emotion and a connection to the music: aggressive, solid steps to dramatic moments, delicate and soft steps to more romantic, tender moments. Musical Expression is part of our individual "styles" which I will discuss in my next post.

Carlos Gavito may just be the most expressive Tango dancer of our time. His Musicality made him a living legend. In this video with Maria Piazola, he especially, expresses a depth of emotion through his Musicality and Musical Expression. Things to look for that illustrate the latter are how he fills each beat to capacity - even when he isn't moving! - arriving right on the beat, with his entire body expressing the same emotion as the music in that moment. Also, the varying speed of his movements, which coincide with the music as well (i.e. launching into a step forcefully then gliding gently into its concluding, and matching, note). At about 1:35, he does an embellishment with the music, but mostly, he does hardly any at all. He speeds up his movements and the number of steps as the music swells, then slows back down, again with the music. Again, at about 2:30, he does his most complex embellishment, together with the musical climax. All his movements are there to highlight and compliment the musical nuances, not fight them.

My favorite example of female Musical Expression is this video of Natacha Poberaj and Jesus Velasquez. The music is completely different from the Gavito example; far more rhythmic, without any long, lyrical passages. The form of dancing to it is thus completely different. Examples of Musical Expression in this video are how she matches her foot placement to the staccato feel of the musical beat. She is clearly following the violins, and her movements imitate the sound of how the bow moves across the strings, down to the very emphasis at the very end of the note. She also fills every second of movement, arriving at her destination at the exact moment of the beat, and not a nanosecond sooner, as though she herself were a musical instrument. Though this piece has mostly a steady, march-like beat, there are several more ligato passages, such as the one at 1:32. The dancers adjust their steps accordingly, making longer and more sensual choices, before resuming the crisp movements when the music returns to the staccato. And like Gavito, she rarely does any embellishments, with the most notable and breathtaking one at 1:17.

Gavito and Natacha (just two examples of many very Musical and Musically Expressive dancers) dance with clean, concise, and unfussy steps. They hardly embellish. And yet, almost everyone who watches them is mesmerized by their "Musicality". Gavito would have veritable tantrums trying to explain to impatient students that Tango was not "steps", and that "less is more". He would often perform an entire tango doing nothing but the "basic" step, and perhaps a couple of ochos. He would often bring tears to the eyes of his students because of the depth of his emotional expression, coupled with the Musicality of his interpretation. All without a single embellishment*.

Final Thoughts
The masters we admire, who have developed such an exquisite ability to interpret the music, have been working at it for many, many years. Mastering all of the technical elements I have discussed thus far (Technique, Rhythm, and Musicality and Musical Expession) should take the average person about 6-8 years. For some it may be less, and for others, the best we can achieve is to be rhythmic in our dancing. Because each of us hears and feels everything differently, Musicality and Musical Expression - and not just rhythm - will always be what sets each of us apart from everyone else, even if we are all dancing to the same piece of music. And the only way to get there is to keep dancing. A lot.

[*Lest I give the wrong impression, I have nothing against embellishments. To the contrary, when used judiciously and to punctuate the music, they are highly effective, not to mention a lot of fun to do. However, while they can be part of Musical Expression, the use of embellishments in and of themselves does not constitute Musicality.]

In my next, and final post in the Technical Series, I will discuss matters of "style", which include interpretation and, of course, embellishments.

Technical Series Part 2 - Rhythm

Musicality. That sometimes elusive quality that separates the true dancers from... well, the rest of us. I will be writing about what I consider to be musicality and musical expression in my next post

But first, no one can achieve musicality without first understanding, and conquering, rhythm. While some may find this particular post a little "dry", understanding and incorporating the concept of rhythm into one's dancing - which must exist before we can "interpret" music - is a critical aspect of any technically proficient dancer. In addition, those "adornments" or "embellishments" with which we are so enamored are directly connected to the proper understanding and mastery of rhythm. (I will discuss the use of embellishments in a later installment.)

Music is the unifying theme between partners. It is our telepathic tool, the only way we have any idea of what is to come during our non-verbal exchange. For those of us who swoon to the wonderful sounds of many types of music, the notion that it is all mathematical is rather depressing. However, music IS mathematical, and as such is governed by its own rules. While I am neither a musician nor a mathematician, I appreciate the "math" of rhythm and will try to explain it here in non-technical terms.

Most dance music is comprised of at least two layers. Before anyone pounces on me, YES, there are single-instrument dances out there, but I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about most dance music.

These layers are rhythm and melody. The rhythm - characteristically expressed by drums or bass - governs the beat, the tempo (or speed) of a piece, and the duration of sounds (syncopation). The melody - what we hum or sing along to - is generally expressed through string and wind instruments, and is the "interpretive" aspect of music. In Tango, it is the bandoneón that gives the melody its characteristic "tango" sound, but which can also express the rhythm (i.e. Pugliese's La Yumba), a fact not lost on beginners who will swear that there is no beat.

As dancers, it is the rhythm portion of music which is the most critical, technically speaking. When we observe that someone is not "dancing to the music", more often than not we are referring to their not stepping on the beat (although you can also step off the beat and still be rhythmical). Every one of our movements must be accomplished by stepping on - or off - the beat in order for it to be "with the music".

Every song has a certain number of "bars" or "measures", defined as a segment of time divided by a given number of beats . These segments are of the same rhythmic duration throughout the song. The speed at which these beats are expressed musically is called "tempo". (The tones within these measures are called "notes".) I will use milonga as my musical example because it is far simpler to illustrate rhythm and beat with milonga's one-step-per-beat rhythm, than tango's far more complex tempo.

Here are two videos of approximately the same tempo. The first is of Osvaldo and Coca, who are dancing "slowly" to the beat - meaning one step per beat (with some traspié). The second is Thierry Le Coq dancing "quickly", using several steps per beat. If you are having trouble figuring out what I mean by beat, the Osvaldo video has everyone snapping their fingers or clapping to the beat.

As you can see, "fast" or "slow" are relative terms. We can dance either fast or slow (or fast AND slow) to the exact same piece of music. We can also dance "slowly" to fast music (less steps per measure), and "fast" to slow music (more steps per measure). If the music itself is slow (more time between beats), it allows us to dance "fast", since we can execute more steps per beat. Likewise, if the music is fast (less time between beats), we can dance "slow", taking fewer steps over the course of more beats. But whether we step on the beat, between the beats, or over the course of several beats, we but must adhere to the actual beat of the music.

"Rhythm" and "beat" are often used synonymously. But there is a distinction: the beat is the actual physical sound - the heartbeat of a song. Rhythm as I am using it, is a person's ability to follow the beat. When a person has "rhythm" it often means that they are able to move with the beat of the song. And I'm talking about the rhythm of humans dancing Tango.

For purposes of simplicity, let's say each "bar" consists of 4 beats (I don't know if this is "musically" correct, but musicians, bear with me...). When dancing to these four beats, we have at least 4 different possibilities to follow it, and infinitely more if we mix them up. We can dance one step to the beat (as Osvaldo and Coca do) or two or more steps to the beat (as Thierry does). Depending on the speed of the music (the time between actual beats), it may be possible to do more. It is also possible to go in the opposite direction, taking one step over the course of two or more beats. This interpretation often comes across as pauses, but we can also simply move more slowly.

In other words, as a dancer, I have the option of completing my step in an eighth, or a quarter or half of one beat, or in one beat, two beats, three beats, or even four beats. Even more if I have balance and can move extremely slowly - as long as I come out of the movement on the beat. Of course, this requires that my partner respect my rhythmic choice and wait for me. In this fabulous video, Mariela Franganillo and Jorge Torres start by dancing slowly to fast music - taking several notes to complete one step. They progress to one step per beat, and escalate to two (or more) steps per beat, then back to one step over several beats. This video shows a true mastery of rhythm.

In terms of lead and follow, the follow has far fewer options as to where to play with rhythm. However, it is anywhere the lead has turned over temporary control to the follow, as during a pasada, or while transferring into the cruzada.

But regardless of whether one is leading or following, both partners must obey the rhythm of the music before they can begin to translate their "feelings" or "emotions" into bodily movements.

Technical Series Part 1 - Technique

[This post has been amendment after discussing the weight issue in the comments. The new information has been added to the section on Weight Change, below.]

Doug of Great Dance [corrected after reading koolricky's comment!!!] asked me a good question in his comment to my last post. Has anyone written about musicality and musical expression, two of several technical aspects of all dancing. The truth is, I don't know. I am certain someone else must have, but I have not. That is about to change.

Let me disclose up front that I am not a teacher, and those who are may explain these things differently. My opinion is based on over a decade of experience dancing Tango, and my descriptions are based on that experience. Also, while there may be many elements which are considered to be "technical" issues, I am going to focus on those I consider the pillars of good dancing: Technique, Rhythm, and Musicality and Musical Expression. The latter two are related but distinct. Other writers/dancers/teachers may disagree with my choices, but then they should write their own post :-)

Finally, I will discuss "artistry" or "style" as a separate coda. While a critical element, it is not necessarily "technique" (unless these artistic expressions interfere with the dancing, such as my foot position did). So, enough drum-rolling. Let us begin.

Technique
When highly creative and excited individuals engage in any artistic activity, the word "technique" feels like a crabby parent crashing in on the fun. However, no fun can really be had in any artistic endeavor without a solid base from which to spring. This "base" is "technique". Even Picasso had to know how to draw a realistic face in order to brilliantly achieve his artistic distortions.

The most basic of technical "elements" I believe is "technique" - that portion of our movements governed by gravity. If we do not have technique, we fall down, or cause others to fall down. Technique is comprised of the following interrelated elements:

1. Balance - if we cannot stand on our own, chances are that holding someone close to us is not going to improve things. Especially if we start moving together. In order to do anything (walk, turn, pivot, change directions, embellish), we must first be able to do so without wobbling or falling over. There are many culprits of poor balance: weak ankles, bad posture (see below), heels that are too high, even inner ear problems. Until we get our own balance under control, any partnering dance will suffer.
2. Posture - while this may be a matter of aesthetics in other dances, in Tango - specifically close embrace Tango - it is a critical element. Blasphemies of posture include head looking down, butt sticking out, receding chest, weak abdomen, etc. All of these, even individually, severely impact our physical connection to our partner. If our head is down, for example, it is not physically possible to connect to our partner's chest - the vital nexus of all communication. Most of these digressions directly impact our balance (see above). A weak "core" will prevent us from achieving proper technique for successful dancing. There is a reason almost every dance class has that "stand as if your head is being pulled up by a string" exercise. It requires a strong core to achieve. And every dance - especially one that involves a close embrace - requires a strong core.
3. Axis - Although a part of "balance", axis is the exact core of it. When we know where our axis is and can control it, our partner can play with it, sending us off in one direction and then, on a dime, dramatically be able to shift it in an opposite direction - without either of us toppling over. We can be tilted "off-center" (i.e. a calecita) and still maintain our balance. A dead giveaway that we have not found our own axis is a need to "hang" onto our partner, or using them to complete a movement. This applies to both leads and follows, and is most evident during (though not exclusive to) giros/molinetes. While certain steps, such as ochos, are much easier to execute with a partner than without (due to the slight resistance they offer with their arm), if we cannot execute ochos at all on our own, we do not have control of our axis. Bad posture (see above) is extremely detrimental to our axis, which will remain an illusive goal until we correct our posture.
4. Physics - Every action has an equal and opposite reaction: Newton's second law of physics. Just as in billiards and pool, we make a ball go one way by tapping it on the opposite side. Physics applies to all physical activity - even Argentine Tango. For example, an extremely forceful lead in one direction will force the partner to apply an equal amount of opposite force (and thus feel "heavy") just to keep from being flung against the wall. A "closed" shoulder acts like the Great Wall of China to a follow trying to return from an ocho. These are just two examples of how physics affects a dance partnership. Other examples include a follow not "collecting" (bringing feet together) during the pivot of a molinete. The "flailing" leg is in effect a "pendulum", and creates a perceivable drag in the opposite direction which can pull our partner off balance. Most egregious of all, of course, is trying to displace a weight-bearing leg. If we want to decorate the house by taking down the one column holding it up, disaster will follow.

Weight Change.
I'd like to say a few words about weight change, which while not strictly "technique", is one of the most critical tools for communication between partners. It is how we each know where the other person's feet are, and how most steps are led.

Amended Portion

Weight change is happens when we transfer our weight from one foot to the other, as during walking. Often, if we are in close embrace, it is the only way we know our partner is ready to continue. Leads must wait to detect their partner's weight transfer (especially during the cruzada!!) before they can step out. Pivots, sadadas, in fact, almost every single step requires that each partner be aware of the other's weight change. The paradox is that the better we become technically, the more subtle the weight change becomes - and consequently the more difficult to detect.

There is another important aspect concerning weight placement; carrying our weight forward (not on the toes, mind you - we must still be able to stand on our own axis), and is a different matter.

Simply put, our weight should ALWAYS be slightly forward, on the balls of our feet, even when we are moving backwards or to the sides - even during a parada. Placing all our weight on the heel at any time means all our momentum has gone to the back, requiring a lot of energy to return. It also causes "lag", which makes staying with the beat (to be discussed in my next post on Rhythm) almost impossible. Further, placing all our weight on our heel can have disastrous consequences, especially for those whose foot gets caught under that weight-bearing stiletto.

The examples I have provided are hardly all-inclusive. There are many ways in which each of these elements affect our movements. It is up to us (and a technically savvy teacher) to spot the problems and work on them, because without mastering "technique" every fancy show step we learn is potentially a Judo take-down.

In the next installment of the Technical Series, I will discuss Rhythm.

Back to School

Tango school, that is. Ok, not school, but to classes. A class, to be precise.

Every now and then I am inspired to take a private class from a visiting teacher (group classes ceased to be beneficial for me about 6 years ago). And who, you may ask, would possibly draw me out of my bah-humbug-ness and pay through the nose for the privilege?

"Los Hermanos Macana" - the phenom brothers act who are turning the tango world on its ear. THAT's who. I have referred to them previously on this blog, and for me they are - if not the absolute best - very near the top of the heap of professional tango dancers. I did not know if they were equally excellent teachers, but I was about to find out.

I will not ramble on about why believe they are the best, but it has to do with how they combine an extraordinary level of technicality, musicality, musical expression, and humor - the latter sorely lacking in most tango expression. And yes, they are clownish, but don't let that fool you. Even though they make everyone smile, they are not clowns like Capussi & Flores, whose act is hilarious, but whose regular dancing exhibits only modest technique.

I grant you that the brothers do NOT represent the more "sensual" or "romantic" aspect of Tango (although I personally find laughter VERY sexy). But they do bring me great joy when I watch them. And it would appear that so does most everyone who sees them. Last night they performed at a local milonga to a thunderous reception. The attendance record was broken by a landslide. I have seen many luminaries dance through our town, and none have received the screaming accolades and demands for encores the way they did. These are substantive dancers who just happen to be adorable and charmingly funny.

But back to the lesson.

I wanted to take a class with them because I felt that after almost a year of not dancing, this might be a good time to review my technique, and work on any issues I may have developed or that might be developing. And since I think these guys are technique GODS, who else to go to?

I booked the lesson through a local tanguera who is hosting them, and requested the taller of the two brothers, since I'm about 5'10" in heels, and didn't want to tower over the shorter one. So, you can imagine my reaction when I arrived at my lesson, the door opened, and I found myself craning my neck straight up to look at Guillermo. He is 6'5" (and weighs about the same as I do.) Enrique, the "short" brother, is 6'2"...

Although Guillermo compared me (favorably) to his mother... he is absolutely adorable. And a really terrific teacher. I asked him which brother was the better dancer and he unequivocally answered that it was Enrique, although he was the better actor :-) After an initial dance to assess my "level" (and during which I was a nervous and stiff wreck - always get that way during my first encounter with any teacher, perhaps because I know I'm being "evaluated"...), he identified a couple of things he wanted to work on. But first, he complimented me on my dancing, telling me that I had the soul of tango and that my dancing expressed that.

His first correction - surprise! - was to my foot position during ocho pivots. Like so many people who have been dancing Tango a while, I constantly seek to find more "artistic" foot positions for my steps, as well as emulating certain movements or touches I found pleasing in others'. Sometimes the result, without my realizing it, is that my artistic foot position becomes a technical problem. In this case, that lovely "v" position during ochos (imported from Ballerina-land) was the culprit for several tiny technical difficulties I have been experiencing since - well, I imagine since I started doing that "v" position! Back to parallel!!!

The second thing we worked on was a direct result of correcting this tiny foot position. Now that my right foot wasn't flared out but parallel to the other during the pivot, I could step directly into my partner on his right without any worries about the tip of my right foot catching on the tip of his right foot. Executing the ocho with my feet in this position allowed me to maintain full body contact throughout the movement without having to keep a tiny distance for my right foot clearance. Outstanding. What a difference!! Mind you, each of his steps was about 8 feet long, but I could still stay stuck to him.

And finally, he corrected a detail on my giros. He described a "triangle" my steps create in the giro to my right, and a parallel exit from the giro to my left. It took me a while to figure out what he meant, and then another while to translate the information into my body. But when it all came together, the result was a crisp, perfectly executed giro in either direction without any wobble from overcorrecting.

These corrections, and this class, were more for my own, internal personal journey. Most leads would probably scarcely notice these adjustments. But they make a world of difference to me. I am known for my exceptional smoothness in dancing, which I achieve by making minute adjustments to any of my own technical imperfections as they occur. The less I have to correct myself, the more I can stay in that smooth and luscious "flow". So these tiny corrections make a world of difference in my own enjoyment.

At the end of the class, Enrique arrived (straight from the airport), and Guillermo had me dance with him. I was shocked by how their dancing styles are such polar opposites!! Guillermo has a very playful, very relaxed style, while Enrique is a highly polished "bailarin". Although dancing with them both was a died-and-gone-to-heaven joy, and although Enrique was a much better height for me, I felt much more comfortable with Guillermo. Without know it, Guillermo was the perfect brother for me to have studied with, since our dancing styles - and our humor - were most similar.

Learning and improving our tango, no matter how long we've been doing it, is a never-ending, lifelong undertaking. We should never stop learning. It is rare to have an "aha!" moment in any class. Much less three of them in one class. It was a gift, and a total joy both to study with my idols, and to know I can keep up with them :-)

[I was able to tape portions of my class, which I will hopefully be able to share with you once I capture and edit the best sequences. ]

World's Best Physical and Mental Therapy

Twice in my life I have suffered neuromuscular injuries resulting in paralysis of the area. And twice Tango has come to my rescue - restoring not only my sanity and self-esteem, but almost complete rehabilitation of my injuries.

The first time was almost exactly a year after I started dancing. I had a "non-trauma" back injury which resulted in the complete loss of use of my left leg. My foot just hung, and I dragged my leg behind me like a sad, Tanguera Quasimodo. The doctors shook their heads and said I'd be fortunate if I regained 60% use of the leg. They clearly did not know with whom they were dealing.

At the time, I had a wonderful tango partner, who in essence became my cheerleader, therapist, trainer. He patiently waited while I regained strength in my leg after surgery. Then, once I could to take tiny steps, came over twice a week so we could "practice". I both looked forward to and dreaded these sessions: on the one hand, it was a chance to enjoy that embrace, that music. On the other, I felt like a newborn staring up at the mist-hidden peak of Mount Everest, barely able to sustain my own weight on that leg.

Without any training as a therapist, he instinctively knew when he could push me to do increasingly more demanding moves. The day he tried a molinete I thought I'd die, it was so awful. But he slowly raised the bar on me, and within three months after my surgery I'd already surpassed the 60% limit the doctors had fated for me. By the end of the year I was close to 85% healed. Today, it is close to 95%. The final 5% is permanent nerve and muscle atrophy, which nobody but me can detect.

Now, here I am again, struggling with nerve and muscle damage which resulted from my cancer treatments. While the damage is not nearly as extensive or severe, it again affects my left side: this time my shoulder area, which makes it difficult to raise my arm. As anyone who dances knows, this is critical for any embrace. It was difficult enough to endure almost a year without Tango. But for the past 3 months I have been unable to raise my left arm due to this injury. Much less keep it raised.

And once again, Tango has come to the rescue. Once I became strong enough to return to dancing, I slowly modified my embrace as strength slowly returned. This modified embrace has an added - unexpected - benefit as well: since I have such limited strength and mobility in that shoulder and arm, my balance must be exceedingly good. I am practically dancing without holding on to anything.

It is now almost a month since I have returned to dancing on a regular, once-a-week basis. Progress seems excruciatingly slow, but there certainly is progress. I would say that between physical therapy and tango therapy, my improvement is about 30%.

Clearly, I still have a ways to go, and I may likewise have residual atrophy in this area of my body. But I cannot underestimate the extraordinary healing powers of Tango.

A Tango Shoe for Every Mood

Thanks to a bloguera friend (who shall remain nameless - but you know who you are...), I "stumbled upon" a shoe blog with a post about the craziest shoes.

For those nights when everyone and their sister seem intent on stepping all over you:



When not feeling quite so aggressive, but still needing some protection, we have:




Of course, there are (rare) nights when I'm feeling "dainty" and delicate, and these would be perfect:

Tango on a Cellular Level

Here is my version of "Techno-Tango". This very cool image is a "DNA" picture of my blog!

The Joy

Last night, the milonga was on fire. There was a huge turn-out and the vibe was so upbeat and joyous, you felt bliss just being in the room. Although I danced almost all night, I also sat and watched, marveling at all the manifestations of our dance.

I have been struggling with a sense of apathy and "numbness" in life - a common "re-entry" issue for anyone having lived through the goal-oriented nature of a traumatic event. Nothing seems to get my juices going or motivate me. It's very frustrating, as I have traditionally been one of those annoyingly "exuberant" people.

But during several of my many tandas last night, I caught myself smiling. Nay, grinning! Broadly! The music, the embrace, that extraordinary experience of blending completely with another person in perfect harmony - ah.

The Joy is here. In this place. Not necessarily the milonga, but in the tango embrace. While I sort out the rest of my life, and allow the healing to return my natural happiness to its rightful place, I can always count on My Tango to take me there, and remind me of all that is good about being alive.

We often joke about the anonymity of Tango: we rarely know each other's last names; sometimes we just know each other by nicknames (El Flaco, Ms. Polka Dot Shoes); and rarely know much about each other's lives beyond the doors of the milonga. I almost think it has to be this way. Not all of us are angels. Maybe not even very nice people "out there". If we all knew each other's foibles, how many of us would choose to accept a dance, much less press up so intimately against each other?

I believe that Tango has the potential to bring out the best in each of us, at least while in the embrace. We surrender our egos; leave prickly personality traits at the table; and cease to be CEOs, taxi drivers, engineers, unemployed. We replace all our externals with a purity of spirit, a generosity of kindness, splendid caring. And when these elements flow freely between partners, it is

The Joy