virtualapiz

On the crest of the wave

2009-11-01T03:08:00.022-03:00

I think it's arguable to say that the visibility of tango outside of Argentina has reached a point not seen in recent memory, perhaps even not since the heady early days of the last century when it first took Europe by storm and made Valentino a star. The recent declaration by UNESCO validating tango's prominence in world culture, the explosion of non-Argentine milongas, teachers, festivals and commerce, the increasing use of tango in marketing (from television commercials to the publishing industry), the burgeoning number of tourists making trips to Buenos Aires... all seem to point to one thing: tango is in.

So I don't think it's particularly surprising that I am having a negative reaction to all the attention. I admit it's certainly a common response when a niche movement moves into the popular arena, the early adherents vocally lamenting the "selling-out" of what was once pure. While I hope that my perspective isn't coming from such a bratty backlash, I will say I am wary of three things: exploitation, misrepresentation, and mediocritization. A good illustration of what I mean can be found in this clip of b-boy culture, particularly starting at around the 4:30 mark:

I feel as if I'm already seeing this in tango, and I can say personally that I've been getting more and more disinterested. A lot of what I see is pretty meh, and even with dancers who I consider skilled there is often a lack of a unique style, which makes the dance seem like something I think it was never meant to be--codified and regimented. What was once a process of discovery and invention has crossed over into something packaged and bought. On the social scene, I almost never go out to milongas anymore except for community service purposes, although there are reasons beyond--or maybe I should say, behind--my lack of interest that I may expound upon in another post. As for the exploitation, I can't tell you how sick I am, for example, of these memoirs and "fact-based" novels about middle-aged women going to Argentina and "discovering" tango. Even as they purport to present the culture as something profound, in truth they tend to utilize it merely as a hook to promote themselves. And as a very respected colleague of mine noted, all the books tell the same story, which is particularly puzzling and frustrating given that in the richness of the culture there is so much more that can be explored than this superficial journey of female self-discovery. "Eat, Tango, Love," so to speak, over and over again.

Now, it's hard to say at what state of a movement one is in. Perhaps this is just the beginning. Perhaps nothing will come of it. Or perhaps something will come along to really shake things up and reinvigorate the progression of the dance and the culture, which currently appears to be shallowing as it spreads.

But then again, who am I to say that the culture isn't evolving, pushing forward, growing and mutating to reflect the times? Could it be that I'm just too immersed to see it? Going back to the b-boy reference, I recall that by the time I moved on from the culture it seemed we had pretty much exhausted the possibilities. It was around the time in the video clip, where as the great Ken Swift remarked, it started to get ugly. And if I am to be honest, I was perhaps part of the problem. Being a young kid from a California suburb I didn't really have the means to really know what the culture was about or understand its history and influences. I just wanted to do something that was fun and looked cool. And though I did develop into a fairly skilled dancer for the time, for me it was never really so much about creation and innovation as simply imitation. So when b-boying was declared passé and the popular culture turned its attention elsewhere, I moved on as well (though in my defense, I didn't let go easily--one friend remarked that I was "lost in an era" since everyone else had already dropped it while I soldiered feebly on). Many years passed before I came across it again, and what I saw astounded me. In the time I was away, the dance had taken in influences from places I never would have thought to look. The technique and athleticism was far beyond anything I was familiar with, and the sheer imagination and creativity, the breadth of dance vocabulary, not to mention an adherence to musicality that had been neglected previously, was truly inspiring. But mixed in with that feeling of awe and pride at how far the dance had come was a quiet regret, almost a sense of shame, that I had written it off and walked away. That I had missed being a witness to the evolution as it was happening.

I suppose if I had learned anything from that experience it would be to trust the art. Have faith in it, even as it appears to be floundering. And to try to see the big picture. While on a day to day basis it may appear to be like the same thing over and over, when you look back on the tango scene just five years ago, and then five years before that, many things have changed significantly, and much of it for the better in my opinion. Teaching methods have much improved in terms of explaining technique, there is more awareness of certain códigos, and the knowledge and availability of the music is far greater. Even the current wariness I am experiencing may be a sign of progress, at least for me, in that five years ago I may not have even been aware of the things I am scrutinizing now.

So I suppose it would be foolhardy to be concerned about the welfare of tango in regards to the effects of popularity and mass commercialization, or to lament the apparent stagnation of the dance.

Then again... writing this now just reminded me of something that a couple of friends of mine, truly traditional-minded milongueros, once said regarding innovation. I had once asked them about the dilemma of making tango relevant in a modern context, with modern influences, rather than merely being an exercise in nostalgia. Their response was that back then, people didn't feel things differently than we do now. Love, hate, jealousy, joy, pain, humor... these things are ageless. People felt them the same a thousand years ago as they will a thousand years from now (assuming we're still around that long). The tango came about as a response to and a reflection of these feelings, and in its classic form is a very successful concoction. So is it really so urgent to come up with new things all the time? As long as the feeling is true and well presented, that is what is most important. I think this is something I truly need to remember, lest I fall into the misguided allure for novelty, as it seems I may have when I began this post. And as for mediocrity and exploitation, there has always been bad tango, and distorted tango. Bad music, bad dancers. Probably a lot more bad than good. But there has always been good as well, and it's the good we remember and which inspires us, the good which is the root from which we want to grow. And there is good tango now--a lot of good tango, indeed. This is something not to be taken for granted, as perhaps I have.

The Rise of the Know-It-All

2009-09-01T15:50:00.000-03:00

For some time now I've been somewhat bemused by the growing onslaught of self-appointed experts in the field of tango. You may know the ones I'm talking about. The ones who, hearing the first strains of Dime Mi Amor, start giving lectures about how Maure is a poor substitute for Echagüe. The ones who, watching the milonga from the rock star seats (most milongas have them), lament about how much it sucks compared to Sunderland. Et al. Usually their unsolicited expertise comes in the guise of a weary complaint or as a dutiful correction of someone else's ignorance. Sometimes you'll see two of them go head to head trying to one up each other. It's kind of like watching that scene from Good Will Hunting where the snobby Harvard guy gets his comeuppance by the more knowledgeable main character--but with both the tango guys being the Harvard guy.

I suppose it's understandable. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, so the saying goes. Once someone gets hooked into tango it's natural to develop an appetite for facts and figures, and since information is so readily available nowadays it's not hard to research. I guess what I find a little annoying is just how susceptible so many people are to feeling like big shots so quickly, and with no more than the discovery of Todotango.com. Or perhaps from a trip to Buenos Aires, which automatically imbues them with expertise. Among the most annoying of this ilk are some of the lucky souls who have the means to relocate down south for extended periods of time. The ones who seem to have the attitude that their living in tango mecca trumps everything else and so they lord it over anyone who ever has a different opinion. "I've lived in Buenos Aires so I know..." Entire books have been written by some of these people.

Specific to the dance front, this supposed prowess often comes as a result of having studied with such-and-such and so-and-so. Or with the sheer amount of time one has spent with tango. Neither of which necessarily means anything. One question that I'm sick of hearing when meeting someone new is, "How long have you been dancing?" Though it may appear innocuous, it's a question with loaded expectations, and I often get the sense that there is an evaluation being made depending on the response. But everyone knows people who have been dancing for a good amount of time but who still, to put it mildly, kind of suck. Of course, some of these people feel that they've put in the hours and have earned their degree, and become "teachers" in some form. Either by actually holding classes, or more informally by instructing people they meet in the milongas and/or prácticas.

I wonder if it ever occurs to them that considering themselves authorities with such relatively little time, effort and/or ability actually diminishes their subject of supposed mastery? That, if they are experts already, it must mean that the history and culture of tango really isn't all that rich and complex, or that the dance isn't all that exacting?

Personally, I'm happy to consider myself a relative child in tango. Knowing there's so much more to learn is a big factor in keeping me interested and pushing me forward. When you're already a master, where else is there to go? What else to discover? (Hint: if your answer is "a lot" then guess what--you're not a master).

On the lack of desire in United States tango

2009-08-02T18:34:00.019-03:00

A friend of mine once told me about the time she first met a brilliant dancer when he just arrived in town. They danced close and by her account it was a really lovely dance. Not too long afterwards, this dancer began to strictly utilize an open embrace approach. Curious, my friend asked him why he never danced close anymore, and his reply was that with all the dancing that he would do, dancing close embrace all the time was too emotionally intense. By using open embrace he could protect himself from that intensity without sacrificing the amount of dancing he liked to get.

Now, I'm not sure I can relate to this sense of emotional overload, although to be fair I dance a lot less than this guy. But it makes me wonder if a common factor for people who dance strictly in an open "nuevo" style is something along the lines of this kind of self-protection. A way to excise emotion--or specifically, desire--from the equation. Incidentally, I've noticed that many people who really excel at this style strike me as highly intelligent, left-brain types--people in the medical field, or law, or engineering. I wonder if the pleasure they derive is from the logical construction of figures, as if it's the playing with structure that fascinates them. Like solving puzzles in order to build new puzzles of increasing complexity. The fact that there is someone attractive opposite them who is assisting in the figure creation is, while perhaps a nice bonus, ultimately beside the point.

Then there are those who do dance close, even exclusively so, in a style they consider more "traditional," yet who still somehow create an emotional distance between themselves and their partner. While their bodies are in proximity, their embrace (if you could call it that) is cold and unfeeling. Perhaps it just hovers there, forming the outside boundary to the functional cylinder of the couple. It is well-meaning, intended to be unobtrusive and efficient, to grant freedom of movement to the other and to the self. Perhaps also to best serve as the conduit of communication between the partners. I think there are more than a few teachers and dancers who encourage this, perhaps as a reaction against the amateur tendency to hold too tightly and to compromise movement and function. But to me, it is akin to the wire monkey with the baby bottle--yes, it provides a necessity, but does it comfort or nurture?

Certainly, freedom--of movement, of intention--is very important in this dance. It provides the means to the greatest degree of expression. But is this freedom all-important? What do we sacrifice, or are we willing to sacrifice, when we prize this freedom above all else?

Finding an ideal middle ground is something my partner and I seem to work on with some regularity. While it is important to me to try to communicate affection, I have a tendency for far too much tension in my embrace. It's a problem I have been trying to address for a long time and which occurs without conscious awareness--even though I'm not aware of it and when it happens I'm not engaging my muscles nearly to their maximum it still transmits to her and in the long run is fatiguing for both of us. While I know it's getting better it still has room for improvement in order to make my dance maximally efficient and comfortable. But sometimes when I am specifically focusing on this my embrace gets a little too soft, which makes it feel absent to my partner.

"Relax," she says, "but don't stop holding me."

To hold, and to be held--isn't that the point? And if not, why not? Can you really call it tango without it? Or like Geraldine said, is that mistakenly thinking of it as a dance and not a feeling that is danced?

Maybe that's exactly what we Americans as a culture--much of which is derived from staid British restraint (no offense)--tend to find uncomfortable, the insinuation of feeling. Perhaps we don't want to come across as creepy or lecherous, or needy. We don't want to give the wrong impression. We want to make sure the other knows it's nothing personal. That it is, after all, just a dance. Maybe there's the concern that the expression of affection in tango necessarily portends something more, something that exists outside of the dance, that isn't left on the floor when the tanda is done and the thank yous have been exchanged.

As ever, I really don't know the answer, or even if it's a valid question. Am I totally missing something?

On the lack of dynamic in United States tango

2009-07-15T04:30:00.027-03:00

Some friends and I were having a conversation on tango the other day and the subject drifted toward the manner of dance here in the states, in particular, what seems to be a common tendency among highly skilled dancers and professionals. To specify, I'm fairly certain it was in reference to many who dance in the style generally referred to or understood as "neo" or "nuevo," which quite frankly seems to comprise many of the well known professionals. Anyway, my friend was saying how she finds that most people she has danced with in this style who are from this country have a curious lack of dynamic compared to people from Europe or Argentina. By "dynamic," we mean the manner in which energy is shared between partners; the give and take of force. For example, how the leader can mark a propulsion in the follower and then use the energy from her subsequent inertia to power his own movement. (This can also work the other way, where the follower uses the leader's energy.)

One thought that we had regarding this tendency has to do with what is perceived as "advanced" technique in this country. That is, when beginners dance there is a tendency to muscle the lead and follow in a manner that is rough and inelegant. So perhaps among more experienced dancers here, the reaction against that "amateurishness" is to move away from muscularity as much as possible, the result being on the other extreme, where the lead/follow become so much of a subtle suggestion that it is almost non-existent, and there is very little actually felt in the exchange. It is this lack of feeling that my friend finds unsatisfying. If I understood her correctly, she feels it's as if each dancer is expected to bear responsibility for their own energy without tapping into or feeding the others', and that makes her feel separated from her partner.

Perhaps it has something to do with an exaggerated sense of diplomacy. Inherent in the give and take of energy is a kind of aggressive / submissive implication that maybe some people aren't comfortable with. So instead they utilize a very p.c. approach where it is encouraged that neither partner encroach on the others' self-sufficiency, at least to the degree to which it is possible to be unobtrusive. I think this may stem from our cultural ideal of individuality and self-reliance. And also, perhaps a heightened sensitivity to the notion of equality of the sexes and a subsequent aversion to well-defined "masculine" and "feminine" roles. And that aversion also seems to imply an aversion to the emotional character of the dance, the desire between man and woman (or between same sexes for those with that inclination), which results in a dance that may certainly be expressive and beautiful, but emotionally inert. But perhaps this is a line of thought that is veering off on a tangent from the topic of this post.

Anyway, I'd be curious to hear from others on this.

Hit it and quit it -- The promiscuity factor

2009-06-26T04:52:00.044-03:00

Does the approach to social dance reveal the manner in which someone approaches mating, and is the milonga itself a metaphor for the dating pool?

When people dread the position of not dancing, is it that they are not feeling validated for their worth? The same kind of dread that some people have of growing old alone and not having anything to show for their lives when they die? And in the metaphor, is the dance the DNA we want to share, the bit of ourselves we want to pass on to exist beyond us thereby immortalizing ourselves in some small way? Do the seconds on the clock ticking towards the end of the milonga represent the days of our lives, and does every dance represent the loves -- or at least, the couplings -- we will have? Consequently, does a milonga devoid of dancing represent a life devoid of companionship, and the dances we did not share signify the increased likelihood that all that is ourselves ends with us?

For those who are selective about their dances or who seemingly feel less compulsion to dance than others, does that indicate that they are at a contented place in the balance of companionship and non-companionship? Are they more secure in their solitude? Or secure in their perception that they can get the dances they want when they want them; that they are only interested in sharing their dance/DNA where it will have the most benefit? Or does their restraint say something about their lack of libido/virility? For those on the extreme end who rarely choose to dance at all, are they, or at least are they seen as, "tango frigid" or "tango impotent," and does that perception seemingly point to their manner outside of tango as well?

Then there is the other side of the equation. There are those leaders, we'll call them "tango satyrs," who seem determined to dance with every woman in the room. And of course, there are the followers, whom we'll call "tango nymphomaniacs," who want the same thing from every guy -- although, here it is important to make a distinction: the tango nymphomaniacs are those who genuinely have that hunger for dance partners as opposed to the followers who "do their duty," so to speak, from a sense of obligation to be social and to maintain their appearance as viable dance partners.

For the tango satyrs and nymphomaniacs, do they even care or notice what they are giving up of themselves, or is it all about taking for them? Is it a chip on the shoulder that they have something to prove? Or is it about being at a buffet and constantly filling their plate so they haven't missed anything? Is the dance such an inconsequential thing that they have no issues with hopping from one partner to another in rapid succession, either discarding the previous dances as over and done or cataloging them as notches in a belt or items in a to-do list that they can cross off? Or is it possible that every dance really is something special, and if so how is that possible, that the volume itself doesn't dilute the well of experience (can the person who has bedded over a hundred different people feel as strongly for each partner as the person who has bedded only ten)? Or is it something they simply can't help of themselves, something obsessive-compulsive that drives them to constantly seek the euphoria of the fresh dance?

On another level, for those looking for casual hookups, is it a good indicator that the tango satyrs and nymphomaniacs will be both easier to hookup with and more reliably un-clingy in the aftermath? For those looking for a more committed relationship, do the more selective dancers seem to indicate better qualities of fidelity?

I'm not arguing for one thing or another, that one approach is better or worse or that tango satyriasis/nymphomania is necessarily a bad thing. Because honestly, when it comes down to it, what is tango for most people but promiscuity, in a sense? I am hard pressed to think of anyone anywhere who dances only with one person. As with everything, it's a matter of degree, no? Let's face it: monogamy is not human nature. It is in the best interest of our biological imperative to fool around with a lot of partners, hopefully partners with qualities that will benefit us in the long run. I'm just wondering if these are some of the possible multitude of ways in which the manner that one approaches tango reveals more about their character than they necessarily intend or perhaps would even want.

An unteachable lesson

2009-06-18T15:10:00.028-03:00

A lot of people seem to approach a milonga as if it is imperative to get as much dancing as possible, or that they should brave a dance on a perilously crowded or dangerous floor because even a compromised dance is better than none at all.

My outlook, on the other hand, is that I would rather drive an hour to a milonga and wait through the end until the energy on the floor was right for me, and leave without ever having danced if that time never comes, than to force myself onto the floor just because I made the trip and paid the cover, or need to get my tango "fix". Will I feel it was a waste? In some ways, certainly. But there is always the foreknowledge that it could have been much worse if I had gone against my better judgment.

Certainly, the call to dance can be strong, and it can be difficult to resist. The dj plays an orchestra that I love, and a favorite dance partner is available. But if the dance conditions aren't within a certain workable parameter, ultimately it becomes a questionable endeavor. When I dance with someone, I always want to give them my best dance. Of course, that doesn't happen very often -- quite rarely in fact. Though that's the ideal, I would be satisfied at least with a good representation of my expression and feel. Where I come away with the sense that my partner has an accurate idea of how I heard and interpreted the music and the moment. So even if the music is great and the partner is willing, if the floor conditions aren't right then I can't really express myself anyway, so to what end would I be dancing? In fact, in that situation the frustration can be even more profound because the schism between what is felt and what can be actualized can be so much greater.

Anyway, my point being, there is one lesson that I think is of importance but cannot be taught, and that is how to know when not to dance. Of course, this is a very subjective thing; everybody has their own perception on what conditions are acceptable to them and what in the dance brings them satisfaction. Naturally, when dancing socially there is always some degree of compromise (at least there should be -- if this sounds alien to you I'd say it is more likely that you are a hazard to others on the floor). The prime dancing time, then, is a matter of gauging the zone of probable compromise on the floor at a given moment.

So how do I assess the conditions for myself? Well, barring partner compatibility considerations:

If I watch the floor and can't discern a clear flow, that's a bad sign. I'm sure we've all experienced the milonga that more resembles a pot of boiling water than something with a current. Perhaps acceptable for salsa or club dancing, but pointless for tango.

I will not dance when doing so places my partner beyond a certain degree of risk. If it seems that the majority of the dance will be spent on the defensive, trying to keep my partner out of harms way, that is too much of a compromise on my expression for me or my partner to enjoy. Similarly, if the floor is overly crowded and the traffic causes undue congestion I prefer to wait it out. Just as in driving a car, I can't stand the stop and go thing.

If I'm not feeling the music or don't care for the orchestra, I will wait for the next tanda. Or, if the djing is particularly not to my liking, I may not dance at all. (side note: I don't relate to those who invite dances during cortinas, before they even know what will be played next. I'm guessing the music doesn't matter so much to them and they love dancing for dancing's sake. In a way, I suppose that makes me more limited of a dancer than they as I can only dance honestly when I am compelled, and not everything compels me.)

If for unknown reasons I have been dancing in a way I feel is unsatisfactory, I will take some time away from the floor to relax and recalibrate, rather than dive right back in with the intention of fixing whatever isn't working. If the problem persists, I call it a night, knowing that it happens and therefore not getting down about it.

I generally dislike dancing milonga, and to a lesser degree vals, as my first dance, as it sets me up with an energy that can be hard to come down from.

I have become quite good at heeding my intuition and refraining from dances when I don't feel the conditions are suitable. Naturally, I have encountered people who were dubious about my reservations, wondering if I was making up some excuse not to dance with them. But what I have found is that as more people get to know me and my outlook, the more I develop a kind of reputation for being fastidious and they come to realize it's okay for them not to take it personally. And as a kind of bonus, some people have told me they consider it something of a treat to dance with me because they know I'm so damn picky. So, while I may not dance nearly as much as many in the community, I have found that being true to myself in being discerning has served me well. Quality for quantity -- I consider it a fair trade off.

Quejas de Blogdoneon, or, Writing/Tango = Dancing/Architecture?

2009-06-02T04:51:00.017-03:00

Since this blog is not nor has ever been about chronicling the days and nights of tango life in detail, it is prone to these periods of inactivity. I always feel obligated to have a particular topic or thread of thought before I begin to write, yet I don't want to force something into existence just for the sake of updates.

That being said, sometimes I wonder just what it is that brings me to write in this public forum. For my own personal use I keep a private journal with thoughts and observances, notes on things to work on and such. These are things that specifically address my own issues with the dance, primarily technical issues, and as such are of little use to anyone but myself. The utility of this blog, as what has seemed to happen without conscious intention on my part, has been to raise questions without clear cut answers and gather responses from others. Although oftentimes I don't really see what I am presenting to the world that adds to it in any genuinely practical way. Or perhaps, to put it another way, there is a preponderance of tango blogs out there and the issues that pop up always seem to be the same ones--authenticity, floorcraft, new vs. old, finding ones place in the community, etc. So what am I asking--indeed, what can I ask of practical and common relevance--that hasn't been asked before or will be asked again? And has anything really been resolved? Or is it just about finding comfort bitching to the world from our lofty idealistic viewpoints of what should be, and that is all we bloggers can hope to take from our scribbles?

Also, in writing about tango--at least, in writing about the dancing of tango--I'm wondering if it's a misguided attempt at correlation and a practice that directly contradicts what I referenced in my last post regarding the overanalysis of tango. What am I doing here but analyzing the dance and the culture, often with considerations that may be far removed from anything truly relevant about tango or with no basis in anything that actually exists outside of my imagination? And do I share these considerations which may be deliberately peculiar as an effort to inject something different in the tango blogosphere? As a means to distinguish this blog from all the others? And to what end?

As has been the case especially of late, this entry is a meandering one. My apologies.

Consequences of globalization?

2009-05-23T19:05:00.010-03:00

I watched this video last night and, aside from marveling at the beautiful performance, I was particularly struck by the audience reaction at the end. Back in those days, it seems that Javier and Geraldine were the torchbearers for the new generation of dancers who were carrying the traditional ideals of the dance, in particular the dance of Villa Urquiza. You can see it in the way the crowd praises them. That's not merely appreciation for a great performance, that's pride. Pride for a couple who are representing their culture with excellence.

But with their subsequent success, the flavor of Villa Urquiza has now spread throughout the world (thanks, in a large part, to the universal posting of videos such as the one above), and given that it has become more commonly seen I wonder if perhaps the flavor has become less of a treat in a sense. Not that it's become bland or banal, but that it has lost some of its freshness. And it just makes me wonder if it's possible nowadays to sincerely elicit the kind of reaction the Sunderland crowd gave their native son and daughter in this video.

I am just using the Villa Urquiza style as an example, since the video captures it so well in its own neighborhood. I could just as well be speaking of all tango, in its various incarnations. As the globalization of tango marches on, does the idea of tango as representative of the cultures of the various barrios of Buenos Aires, or of Buenos Aires and Argentina itself, become increasingly moot or dated?

To this day, one of the highest compliments I receive is when I am told I dance like a porteño. While that still gives me pride, I wonder about the implications of what is said. As if what is of highest value is to be true to the manner of dance in BsAs. From a personal level, I don't question that. I would not second guess the hundred years of development that the culture underwent in its homeland, and quite frankly it's the approach that makes sense to me and which I like the best. But then, does that somehow limit the possibility for the dance to take on the flavors of some of its adopted places? That there's somehow less value in a tango with a San Francisco flavor, or Berlin, Toronto, Paris, Taipei, or that being tainted by these cultural influences makes it less truly "tango"? Is it traitorous to expand the definition of tango from being an "Argentine" dance to being a "World" dance?

Or is it a matter of degree? For example, no offense to the ballroom dancers but I don't consider what they call "tango" to be anywhere near what I call tango. Though I surmise that their tango is somehow based on it.

Also, I think about the effect that a singularly exceptional dancer or couple has on tango. How, as they develop fame, their style ripples outward and attracts adherents, and soon you see more and more people dancing with their particular signature. Does that somehow make the originators less special? And though understandable, is it ultimately a good thing that people want to emulate an example of excellence rather than trying to come up with their own example?

I feel that when I ponder these things my line of questioning becomes tautological, only feeding on itself as I go on. And on. Perhaps it's best to keep in mind what Geraldine and Javier say in this video at 0:33, which is an observation that I like to fall back on whenever I get too thinky about anything in tango:

Open frame experiment

2009-05-18T19:08:00.012-03:00

The past few days I've been experimenting with dancing strictly open embrace (or "open frame" as I think is more accurate). And I mean about as open as you can get, hand under the armpit type thing. There are two reasons for this: first off, the past weekend was particularly warm in the Bay Area and it was a bit more comfortable to refrain from sharing body heat and stickiness. And second, I'm just not very used to it -- haven't much danced this way socially since I was a beginner -- so I thought it would be good practice for me.

I really wasn't sure how well I would be able to pull it off but functionally it was fine. None of my partners had difficulty reading the lead, which was a relief. Anyway, my impressions to date are as follows:

--It was particularly difficult to micromanage the musicality when I wanted to make syncopated movements or play with a shifty melodic passage. Though it worked from time to time my overall percentage was much lower than when dancing close. And in general the dance took on a kind of strictly flowy quality, kind of hazy and soft, legato. It was tricky to give it edges or accents.

--It was, surprisingly to me, far less physically taxing overall than dancing close, although my legs were aching when I got home.

--There was a feeling as if I had less responsibility for my partner, especially regarding her axis, and this provided a sensation of great freedom and autonomy.

--Though enjoyable, there was something distinctly unsatisfying when it was done. Did it feel like dancing? Yes. Did it feel like tango? No. It's the difference between two people dancing with one another vs. two people embodying a dance.

--It seemed as if I had to think through the dance more than I do in close, although that could just be because I'm not as accustomed to this kind of connection.

--I found myself constantly looking down, although again that could be just because I'm not used to it.

These are what I can come up with at the moment. I plan to continue this experiment to where it does begin to feel comfortable and natural for me, and I'll see if I have any added insight then.

Are we talking about the same thing?

2009-05-04T23:55:00.034-03:00

A woman meets a tango dancer of some renown at a milonga. She asks him for a dance--he obliges. She is confident, emotive, expressive. They are perfect together. The song ends. She gazes at him dreamily, a little flirtatious.

"How am I dancing?" she coos.

"Like shit," he replies.

***

This is an anecdote which I heard from the lead in the story, who will remain unnamed. And while I will say his response was fairly brutal, I have to admit I admired his frankness. At any rate, to touch on the last post regarding the difficulty of self-assessment, there is also the difficulty of assessing the quality of the dance that one shares with a partner. It's not uncommon to find oneself in a dance relationship with lopsided perspectives, where one partner loves to dance with someone because "we dance so well together," whereas perhaps the other partner feels as if they are bending over backwards to accommodate the difficulties that the first person brings to the dance. Or perhaps one person hates the musicality of the other but gives them the freedom to interpret it their way, which makes the other feel as if they are completely in sync.

Of course, it's all a matter of degree. Every dance partnership is going to be uneven at some level, but what I refer to in this post are the ones whose perceptions are so markedly different between the participants.

Examples (fictionalized):

He says, "I love the way she feels in my arms."
She says, "I hate his embrace."

She says, "I love all the cool things I can do with him."
He says, "She's not following me at all."

He says, "Volcadas with her are awesome."
She says, "My back is killing me."

She says, "We are at the same level."
He says, "If we weren't friends, I probably wouldn't bother dancing with her."

He says, "She dances with me whenever I ask, so she must be enjoying it."
She says, "I have difficulty saying no to a dance, even when I know I won't like it."

She says, "He never throws me off balance like a lot of other guys do."
He says, "I have to hold her up the whole time. And my back is killing me."

I am one to be neurotic about such things. While I am by no means a selfless dancer, when I dance I always prioritize my partner's enjoyment over my own. I have never, nor would I ever, wanted to dance at someone's expense. To get myself off at the cost of another's comfort or pleasure. Because that is actually working counter to what I enjoy most, which is to bring and share joy. But sometimes it's hard for me to tell, is she really enjoying this? Or is she just being nice?

One thing that I wish I could do is to feel my dance as a follower of myself. Then I could really tell whether or not I was projecting to/through my partner exactly what I intend. How clear my lead is. How accommodating my embrace and posture. How I fit in the fine line between a presence that is focused and nurturing and one which is domineering, or the opposite, one that is scarcely felt at all. The amount of "heads up" that I give in my lead. How well I wait for my follower, and how well I follow her through my lead. How well I breathe...

And so on, and so forth. At least then I'd know that if a follower doesn't like my lead it's not because I'm doing something I'm unaware of. She'd be hating my dance for exactly what I mean it to be--and that's fine. Well, maybe not fine, but given the considerable spectrum of human preference it's only natural that from time to time...

In other words: tastes differ.

But, in wanting this kind of self-awareness, does that make me too much of a control freak? I mean, isn't there something to be said about having some kind of mystery about yourself to yourself that someone else is privy to? Especially when a partner genuinely does love dancing with you; isn't there a kind of affirmation in knowing that they love something about you that even you can't exactly define or consciously replicate? An intangible quality, an x factor that you possess through no intention but being who you are?

And, is it a richer experience when we don't know exactly how our partner feels? Would certainty kill the drive to delight, to surprise, to build anticipation? Is it the search for connection which gives it value when we think we've found it?

Ouch! My ego!

2009-05-02T18:48:00.013-03:00

Since it has been a fair amount of time since I began, I can't remember all the nuances of my mindset as an absolute beginner, although I think it is a good thing to try to hold on to. I know I was terribly shy (as I still am to a degree which brings about admonishment from some) and felt very out of place as a stranger not only to tango but to the ballroom environment and social dance in general. And though of course there was a ton of uncertainty--I remember how magical and mysterious certain elements (ganchos, sacadas...) seemed--there was never for me a sense that I would never "get there." There was always a faith that someday I would understand and be able to do the things that eluded me.

While I think I have remained somewhat humble, I can't say that my ego has been unaffected in the course of my development as a dancer and aficionado of tango. I suppose that's not necessarily a bad thing. Pride and ambition are great qualities to push one towards excellence. But I have always been wary of being one of the ones who jump too early, whose ambitions exceed their level of expertise, though in their minds they are likely unaware of the gap between reality and where they think they are.

That being said, it is extraordinarily difficult to reconcile reality with self-perception, and I think this is one of the most frustrating aspects as a serious student of the dance. Speaking for myself, there are times when I get comfortable with the thought that I am at a good place with my dance and that I seem to have a solid grasp on many of the details of things that I do regularly and also of things that I don't utilize but have studied. Then there are times when I seem to discover that all which I thought I had known and/or could do was wrong. In these moments there is obviously a tendency to feel exasperation at the awareness of time wasted practicing misconceptions and the foreknowledge of the difficulty of correction. But I think the real discouragement comes from the realization that I wasn't as good or as knowledgeable as I thought I was. Despite my somewhat meek bearing, in truth there is a raging egomaniac beneath the surface, and when it gets called on its weaknesses I definitely feel a sense of despair.

Perhaps it's fitting that a culture so intimately linked with heartbreak would extend that feeling to the technical aspects of its expression.

But maybe that's where the balance lies. If there was no humility then would there be the ability to admit I was wrong? Certainly there are dancers who seem to stagnate for as long as I can remember, stifled by the unwillingness to change an approach which is limited. Or worse, whose dancing seems to degenerate more and more as they extend branches of poorly executed elements to the rickety base of an unquestioned faulty foundation. I interpret that as ego unchecked, the inability or unwillingness to admit one is wrong or could do better.

On the other hand, without ego would we even try? I don't know that I would continue to practice as hard as I do if I didn't think I could get better. Not just better, but attain a real measure of excellence. That given time and hard work and good direction, I can perhaps stand among the Chichos, Javiers, Pepitos of the world. Why not? Though when my ego takes a blow, that distance between me and them sure seems long.

Songs without endings

2009-04-21T04:03:00.003-03:00

Quick post: the other night I went to a milonga where the dj for whatever reason played a noticeably large proportion of songs that don't end with the "chan-chan" but instead have that pause followed by the looooong drawn out exit. I pretty much hate dancing to those kinds of endings, never know what to do with them. I generally just stop when the rhythm does. So I was just wondering, if anybody cares to share, what do you leaders usually do? Do you dance through it? Or as a follower, do you mind if the leader stops before the song *technically* ends, or do you prefer when a leader actually does something with those held notes? Also, do you like, dislike, or have no opinion on these types of endings?

Fatigue trumping good intentions.

2009-04-18T04:15:00.009-03:00

I sit here writing this entry as a kind of penance for missing what I was planning to do at this moment, which was to attend Felipe and Rosa's monthly Tangueria in Oakland. It's a great venue with two of the best dancers in our community and I honestly think it has potential to be one of the top milongas in the Bay Area if it ever finds its legs. As such, I really want to support it... but I find that Friday nights are difficult. The last day of the work week, and I am invariably just wiped out, mentally and physically. And, I suppose, because I'm accustomed to going out on Saturday nights, Friday nights seem like a good time to recharge in preparation.

The last time I went to the Tangueria was many months ago, though each time since I had the intention of going but ended up refraining at the last minute. And up to that last minute I was at the point of preparation--contemplating what to wear, getting ready to freshen up--when I wrestled with the decision and ultimately came to the conclusion that if I did go it was because I was forcing myself to go on principle even though I wasn't really feeling up to it, which is probably not a very good reason.

Because it's been a while since I've gone I don't know how it's faring. Back then it was still very new and hadn't quite yet found a core audience, so it was inconsistent. One month would be very lightly attended while the next would be packed. But all who I spoke with had very positive things to say. I think tonight might be a little tough, though, because there are two very popular visiting teachers in town who are at two different venues. This was another factor in me especially wanting to go, because while I welcome guests to our community and wish them success, I feel ambivalent about the impact they sometimes have on the locals.

Obviously, my will was overridden tonight by sheer exhaustion. It's been a relatively busy tango week for me--from last Saturday I've only gone one day without tango, and the past three nights were focused on tango work with my partner (one of those nights at a workshop with one of the visiting teachers). I'm sure that from a professional's point of view that seems like nothing, but I'm not a professional, and my day job is physically taxing and at night I'm still managing to regularly hit the weights at the gym, sometimes directly from practice. Being a guy whose natural constitution isn't particularly robust, it takes a lot out of me.

Ah well. I really hope tonight went well at the milonga, which by all rights it should have. Especially since they had guests Ney and Jennifer to teach the class, two of my favorite teachers and dancers anywhere. As for me, I'm about ready to hit the bed. Only 1 AM--as a tanguero I should be ashamed of myself.

Tango: Bayle Nuestro O Bayle Mío?

2009-03-20T04:04:00.027-03:00

So... I have yet to get back to the social dancing scene. Part of the reason is that once you have broken free from the habit it can be hard to come back. It can be hard just to know when to come back. When you will be able to be in that environment and appreciate it anew, bearing no grudges against what you perceived as the things that made you withdraw in the first place. When you will feel able to embody a positive, contributing presence to the festivities.

***

There has been the mantra going around, apparently paraphrased from zen, about "being the tango you want to see." A fine concept, to be sure, and overall a very noble and idealistic perspective to keep in the face of circumstances beyond one's control. But whether that can be the simple solution to my finding fulfillment in tango--or at least, avoiding dissatisfaction--is something I seriously call to question.

If you are dancing only for yourself (or, by extension, only for you and your partner), then perhaps you could be content by whatever happens within that limited sphere, and only within that sphere. But if you perceive your dance as being one voice in a choir, and that the milonga is a living presence made up from the sum of its parts of which you are but one of many, then it is more of a challenge to detach yourself from the goings on around you.

Outside of the milonga setting when I am practicing with my partner, I find great satisfaction in being the only ones in the studio and being able to move without the encumbrance of others, having the freedom to play and amplify anything to whatever degree, to get sloppy if need be. In a social environment, I am far more restrained. But does this mean I resent not having the absolute freedom that I have in practice? Absolutely not. Because as we all know, the objectives in a milonga are different than in a practice session. This also means that the elements that bring joy come from a different source. The whole point is different.

Think of it like this: you are a part of a group with a perceived objective which can only be reached through a collaborative effort. You try in good faith to do your part, only to look around to see others who aren't pulling their weight. Do you shrug it off, feeling that you did your part and that's enough to keep you happy, even though the objective fails?

Again, I am speaking for myself, partly from a leader's perspective. I imagine it might be different from a follower's perspective since in either a practice or social setting the bulk of her focus is on herself and her partner and so the distinction of dancing in practice vs. milonga isn't as pronounced as it is for leaders. But I am also speaking from an observer's perspective, as someone who sits on the sidelines for much of the night, looking for the beauty of flow in la ronda and finding entitlement and obliviousness instead. Watching a floor like this is like listening to a record that's been scratched and warped to the extent that the music is unrecognizable.

***

Another issue I have with the mantra is that I don't like the idea of being some sort of flag bearer for what I think anybody else should be doing. Indeed, uniformity is, in my opinion, absolutely contradictory to the ideal of tango. But this is part of my lament from the last post. Looking out on the milonga floor, one doesn't see personal expression. Instead, one sees a lot of Lego pieces being put together. You can often look at a dancer and see exactly who they studied with, or where they stole their moves or style from. Usually badly. So you have both unoriginality and poor form. Even in the cases where a good dancer has strong technique and a broad dance vocabulary, it is often still a derivation of a dance already danced, of elements that have already been established, deconstructed and given names. Not to say that I'm not guilty of this myself. Everybody is, to some extent. It is such a pleasure, then, to see someone dance with a true signature that isn't a result of technical limitations but as an honest expression of who they are.

So, to the question at hand--Bayle Nuestro o Bayle Mío? I suppose there is a place for both, where "Bayle Nuestro" can be exemplified by the unity/community of la ronda, whereas "Bayle Mío" is exemplified by the unique expression that each dancer potentially carries.

***

I know I'm coming across as terribly negative lately, which perhaps justifies my willful self-exclusion from tango activities. I also know that ultimately the fault lies in my own perspective. There is beauty out there on the milonga floor--always--and honest expression and joy and community. It's just that my view is obstructed by an idealism which is most likely unrealistic, and I give undue attention to irritants that are relatively minor. Like looking up in the Sistine Chapel and dismissing it because of the smudges on my glasses. Meanwhile, my burnout is to a large extent feeding from the fundamental mistake that I'm bored with what I see, but of course the real joy of tango isn't derived by what is seen. That is, I'm a little sheepish to admit, a beginner's mistake (which many outgrow, but many do not).

And so I remain waiting for this to pass, which it will. It's the uncertainty of not knowing when that is somewhat disquieting.

Finding the balance - Tango vs. non-tango.

2009-03-14T22:49:00.016-02:00

It's been about a month since I've gone out to dance recreationally. Leading up to the point when I decided to take a break was a steadily increasing unease with the social environment, a sort of restlessness with the expectations of being at a milonga as well as a fatigue from the energy that is generated by crowds. Not to mention a growing kind of boredom and/or outright dismissiveness of the bulk of dancing that I was seeing--much of it rote, of dubious technique, and disconnected in myriad senses of the word. Since that time I've gone back to catch up on some activities that I consider to be important but which had been seriously compromised from what was perhaps an overemphasis on tango during whatever free time I had. I'm finding myself taking to these old activities with relish, and that the call of tango is, for the time being at least, easily put aside. It is an apparent ease of abstinence which would be alien to so many I know in the community, who talk as if missing tango for a day or two completely discombobulates them. To be fair, I haven't completely excised tango from my life. I still dedicate three days a week on dance study and practice. The milonga scene, however, is something that I not only am feeling fine doing without, but to which I am actually feeling a pronounced aversion.

It's clear to me that I have yet to find the right balance between tango, which I would still consider my primary pursuit, and the non-tango, which is just as essential. Perhaps complicating the matter for me is the challenge of reconciling the social requirements of tango with the facets of my personality which are decidedly anti-social. As one who for the most part prefers solitude over company, I suppose the pursuit of tango is a strange fit. Or, perhaps it makes perfect sense. I recall a story Negracha told me about a silent milonguero who everyone respected but no one really knew. He would come to the milongas alone and sit alone, and every now and then he would send out a cabeceo and dance a tanda. But if the woman ever spoke or tried to compel him to, he would disengage and go back to his seat. Now, far be it from me to understand his intentions, but he strikes me as a very private man who didn't want to know or be known by anyone. The milonga setting afforded him the ability to make fleeting connections with no strings attached, and that gave him all the human contact he needed to get by. I can relate to that. But I also value the friendships I have in the community and the exchange of ideas which enhance my understanding of tango and my attunement to its ever-changing culture. Not to mention my passion for the art of tango, which--in addition to discipline and hard work--requires collaboration.

As I type this, I am considering heading to a milonga tonight. While the idea strikes me as unappealing and I can think of no one in particular with whom I'd like to dance right now, I'm also aware of how perspectives can change once you are in the environment. Kind of like resisting going to the gym but coming away from it refreshed and with the fulfilling sense of having had a great workout. Hm... I'll hit the shower and see where it leads me.

Romanticization of Tango--A Pragmatic Inquiry

2009-02-16T06:06:00.020-02:00

On Sunday I went to see a tango show where much of the focus was on educating the audience on the history and culture of tango. At one point, the narrator spoke of some of the opinions on tango during its formative years, and to paraphrase, he said that no one had a perspective that was blasé or half-hearted. Emotions ran high both for and against it. It seems that it's fairly rare for someone to be objective. But it's precisely a perspective that I've been mulling over lately. Maybe it's because tango has lost some of its magic for me--it's like the stage of a relationship where the giddiness of infatuation has faded and much of the mystery is gone, but there is a comfortable familiarity. Yet, when I speak of tango to my non-tango friends, it's difficult to convey exactly what my investment is. They ask me if I teach--I do not. They ask me if I perform--I don't. Then when they refer to it as a hobby I get a little indignant, because it seems like more than that. But I can't explain why it is more. So it forces me to step back a little and consider that maybe it is just a hobby.

Why is it that we hold tango in such high reverence? The comparisons are familiar refrains; tango is a drug, an obsession, a religion. Tango isn't a dance, it is a feeling (which is to suggest that it taps into some deeper instinctual, biological programming, the essential needs of the reptilian parts of the brain rather than the more whimsical pretenses of the higher cortex). When someone refers to it as "just a dance" or "just music" our blood starts to rise a little. But is it indeed so much more?

Aside from the considerations of the beauty of the dance, music, culture and community, I've broken down the allure of tango into two basic factions. First, for structurally minded, obsessive-compulsive types, it is the elegant logic of tango which fascinates. The way the steps work. The communication of lead and follow. The architecture and geometry of two bodies in motion relative to one another. Examining the possibilities and investigating in depth just how things function provides near limitless opportunities for discovery.

The other faction is emotional, the distinctly affecting quality that tango has. The key to this is the embrace, and it is in this where I believe the old comparisons have a literal, concrete truth to them. To get technical, there have been studies that show that when people embrace one another, it causes the brain to release oxytocin, which is a hormone that, among other things, fosters sexual arousal as well as bonding instincts between people, and heightens tendencies towards generosity and feelings of trust. Some studies suggest that the effects of MDMA (ecstasy) stem from the drug's stimulation of oxytocin activity in the brain. So it can be argued that the embrace, and by extension tango, is a natural substitute for MDMA and therefore truly is a drug, in a manner of speaking.

Yet, I suspect, putting science to the equation may be off-putting to some. Like tampering with the spiritual, something that isn't meant to be dissected in that way. Perhaps in considering tango a "feeling" it extends to question the makeup of feelings--love and hate merely the result of chemical processes or as a consequence of sentience and free will. Then to the question of whether we are divine beings composed of extra-physical, mystical qualities, or that all we are is made up merely of complex systems of amino acids and cellular networks.

Okay, backing off. Getting back to the subject, maybe we elevate tango because of what drew many of us to it in the first place--the exoticism. I wonder, if tango wasn't such a relatively obscure culture and community, would we feel the same? If EVERYBODY was into tango, would we still hold it so dear and consider it so special? Certainly, there is an appeal in defining oneself as a "tango dancer." Mention tango to a non-aficionado and it conjures images of passion, sensuality/sexuality, drama and mystery. Then when they they talk about their impressions, it can be so gratifying to tell them how much more there is, and how most people don't know the real tango, how Hollywood always gets it wrong, etc. This is part of the tango snobbery, and I know this must be a factor. For someone to elevate themselves by association, the glory in whose reflection they are basking must be bright, indeed. And it doesn't hurt to be a part of a fairly exclusive group, either. Even within the community there is a tendency to compartmentalize, ie. those who haven't gone to BsAs and those who have, and then by frequency and duration. Or who one has studied with. It seems some of us are always chasing the keys to some ever elevating executive washroom.

I should mention that, in general, I don't have a problem with romanticization. I do it all the time. But I suppose I get wary when people start taking it places where I would be fine if it didn't go. Like when people start getting all new-agey and touchy-feely. Talking about tango in relation to spirituality and the like. To me, that's like trying to raise tango to the heavens. Whereas tango--as we tangueros all know ;-)--is rooted firmly to the earth. Flor de fango.

Festival rant on sleep dep.

2009-02-14T02:59:00.010-02:00

February 14th weekend, and we all know what that means...

Been thinking lately about why I'm not much for festivals. Everyone else seems to love them, so why not me? Don't I love tango? Hasn't my life come to revolve around it as much as any of these other festival deadheads?

Well, maybe. Maybe not. But I certainly won't be racking up any frequent flyer miles anytime soon.

I suppose I wonder, what exactly is it that these people are chasing? Is it that their hunger for dancing can no longer be sated in their own backyard? That they need to constantly replenish the affirmation of dancing with new partners ("Hey, works with this person, too!")?

I've said it before: I don't dance much socially. That's not something that would be likely to change in a different locale with different or more people to choose from. So why would I go through the trouble and expense just to sit and watch, which is what I mostly do?

Besides, on the occasion that I do dance, it's still my dance. Doesn't matter who I partner with, I'm still calling most of the shots. And to be honest, it doesn't make all that much difference who I dance with, sorry to say. It's all a degree of the partner's ability to follow (and compensate, if need be) and mutual chemistry. A good match is fantastic, but I don't necessarily feel the need to seek it out. I already know dancers with whom I share a good connection. That's good enough for me. In a sense, it almost feels as if looking to dance with new partners cheapens the good dance relationships I already have. Not that I only want to dance with the same people all the time. But there's already so many good dancers locally who I have yet to dance with, and others with whom I enjoy dancing but have not yet explored in depth many dynamic possibilities and developed the chemistry to its potential. It just doesn't seem worth it to go elsewhere to seek something out, especially in the case of a festival where any potential for development with new dancers is limited to time constraints. And as far as dancing with friends, I can do that in my home community. Why go away just to dance with the same people?

Perhaps you could say that I'm depriving the festival circuit of my singular approach to tango, arguing how every dancer is distinct and has something special to offer. But quite frankly, there's not much unique about my dance and I'm not doing anything that no one else is doing at least as well, so I don't feel like I'm neglecting some civic duty to the global community.

Granted, I think it must be a different story for followers, and I can understand the allure for them--every lead really is different. (Not to say all followers are the same, or even that all followers with whom I share good chemistry are similar. But then, neither variety nor consistency are primary considerations for me).

Then I hear the stories about overcrowded floors, the formation of cliques and hierarchies (deliberately or not), the planchadores/as who actually can and want to dance but are being shut out through sheer lack of recognition, and of course the festival mentality which brings out the worst exhibitionistic tendencies in some people. Plus all the schmoozing and networking. Ick. I'm not one who's looking to fill my yearbook with signatures (or boost the quantity of my Facebook friendship queue).

Another thing that bugs me, and this is strictly a personal beef, is how the festival mentality affects the local community. Here in the SF Tango scene there are so many festival freaks that the milongas feel noticeably drained during mass migrations out of town. Perhaps it's partly because of the relative wealth and travel accessibility among the dance population here. I don't know... to me, it feels almost like a dis of the hometown scene. I understand there are some professionals that have to make appearances, whether they are booked as teachers/performers/musicians/djs, or simply to promote themselves abroad as participants. But non-professionals who jet off to every festival they can... I don't know. Sometimes I think, they can go away and stay away. If the home community isn't good enough for them then to hell with them. I don't know why, but there's something about it that strikes me as kind of phony for some reason. It goes along with the tendency of some to trumpet their "obsession" or "addiction" to tango, to go out of their way to show others just how ravenous their appetite for tango is.

(I once had this conversation with a very respected figure in the tango scene, questioning out loud if my interest in the culture is so much less than these others who demonstrate--and talk up--their obsession. She replied, "I think that people just like being obsessed." As a state of being, something that defines them. Or, as I take it, at least they like talking about how obsessed they are. It's like some kind of one-upmanship. "This week I went to eight different milongas, had five privates and two workshops and only got two hours of sleep every night!" Fine--I fold, you win.)

Pah, whatever. As long as people are having fun, I suppose. Meanwhile, I need to get my grumpy ass some sleep.

Cuartito Azul

2009-02-05T20:35:00.008-02:00

Hi all. The repeat visitors among you may have noticed something different here. First off, I changed the address for the blog to something I think makes more sense. And since I was changing things around already I figured it might be a good time to shake things up a bit with the layout. I was never completely happy with the color scheme of the last one but for whatever reason the template only allowed limited tinkering along those lines, at least as far as I could figure out. This new template allowed for more flexibility color-wise (I think the template is called "Jellyfish," if anyone is interested).

Initially I went with a theme that was as close to the earlier site as I could get, but I didn't like where the new template placed the old photo (another fyi, that was a pic I took on my first trip to BsAs in 2003--my partner was the lovely Natalia Pastorino, a really beautiful dancer that I don't seem to hear much of nowadays but can be seen in that fantastic National Geographic issue on tango a few years back, dancing with her then partner Alejandro Nievas at El Balcón in San Telmo. Also, pictures from that article were subsequently used for current editions of Lonely Planet's Buenos Aires guides). So I removed the picture field which subsequently removed the picture, and when I set up a new picture field in a new location I decided to go with something different. The current photo should be familiar to the real trasnochandos out there. It was taken sometime in 2005 at roughly around six o'clock on a Saturday morning at La Viruta, as the room dropped into darkness before the solo violin strains of the Forever Tango interpretation of La Cumparsita began its wail over the loudspeakers, the blue lights gradually emerging to reveal the slowly rotating black silhouettes.

Given the color of the photo, I thought more of a blue theme would be more fitting. I tend to like darker colors so I kept it shadowy with the exception of the title, which I wanted to match the color of the Argentine flag.

Finally, there is the inspiration of the song, whose title I hijacked to head this blog post. It was this song which first turned me on to El Pibe de la Paternal, maestro Osvaldo Fresedo, with his distinctive singer Ricardo Ruiz.

Cuartito azul
de mi primera pasión,
vos guardarás
todo mi corazón.
Si alguna vez
volviera la que amé
vos le dirás
que nunca la olvidé.
Cuartito azul,
hoy te canto mi adiós.
Ya no abriré
tu puerta y tu balcón.

Hopefully, this new look works. I like it, but if anybody finds something they really think could be improved (ie. readability) please let me know. Thanks.

Giving vs. Taking (31 ene 2009)

2009-01-31T18:35:00.000-02:00

In tango, as in life, these are the impetuses that color actions. Both of them fulfill, but one satisfies from the virtue of sharing while the other sates from sole personal gain. Most people are moved by some combination of the two. While I don't know of any who are only givers, there are definitely some who are strictly takers.

The purest takers are generally very poor dancers since they have no interest in really working on it or learning the culture. They don't seem to care what kind of experience they are giving any of their partners, as long as they can get them out on the floor. Oftentimes, they will be the ones who either nag, guilt, or babysit someone they have their eye on, apparently oblivious to the reticence. When you see them dancing with someone it is patently clear that the partner is going through motions, dutifully yet distractedly stepping and inwardly praying for a short tanda while the taker shuffles away, blissfully unaware and/or uncaring, often engaging in chit-chat throughout. While I try to be diplomatic and open-minded about different perspectives and incentives, I can't summon any kind of sympathy for these types. All I feel is disgust. I suppose I take offense at the gall in which they, lazy and uncaring about the culture, invite (and even demand) dances from those who work hard and take this thing seriously. To me, these people do nothing but exploit the dance and pollute the community and if I had my druthers they'd be exiled somehow.

Sometimes you get a case of a person being a taker but not really being aware that they are a taker. In these cases, it is usually someone whose view of themselves and of their dancing and knowledge of tango are far above what it actually is. They, too, will often bully a desired partner to dance, but their thinking is that once they are actually dancing they will blow the partner away with how great they are. It never occurs to them that the partner has already seen them on the floor and has reasons for their hesitance. These takers may or may not catch on to their partner's disinterest during the dance, but that won't stop them from doing what they generally do, which is to jerk the partner around and force dramatic movements and poses in some cartoonish emulation of something they've seen in a show somewhere, or perhaps even from someone they've seen on the social floor who, unbeknownst to them, is not providing a good example of appropriate behavior. In the end, if they hadn't detected their partner's unhappiness they will beam with pride, thinking they showed their partner how great they were. Or if they had detected their partner's unhappiness, they tend to blame them for being a poor dancer and/or ignorant. I suppose, in their mind, they are actually doing more in the way of giving, magnanimously compelling the unenlightened partner to dance for the partner's own benefit, which the uninitiated partner will realize once they experience firsthand the greatness of the dancing. Poor misguided fools, they. As long as they are blinded by their own ego they will never progress.

On the flip side, I don't know if it's possible for someone to be a pure giver, because that would seem to imply that they don't enjoy the dance at all but know they have an aptitude for it and that others would enjoy their interpretation and sharing of it, so they indulge. However, some people definitely have moments of pure giving. One often sees this in noble teachers who dance with beginners or those new to a community--although it can be argued that they are taking some satisfaction in the act of nurturing someone who may become a great presence in the community. And, of course, finding pleasure in the individual nuances that gives everybody a different flavor.

I think, for myself, I am heavily motivated by the giving aspect--which is not to say that I am a saint or self-sacrificing in any way. Certainly, there are the selfish, "taking" aspects of my dance. It's natural that I desire dancing with accomplished dancers, and it's nice when they are attractive in other ways as well, which they generally are (in fact, I can't presently think of an exception). I will say that it doesn't so much work the other way for me, though. That is, a gorgeous woman with poor dance skills doesn't interest me as a dance partner (if that's all I know about them).

While I don't claim to have any kind of widespread reputation, I think that those who know me will agree that I am more reticent to dance than many, if not most. I wonder if some people misconstrue that as a kind of snobbery. I will admit that, to some, it is just that. Generally, when I have that attitude it is toward someone who fits the description of either of the takers. But that attitude is held for very few. More often, my reticence is colored more by the giving aspect in the sense that I hold doubts of what I can offer. This is an insecurity which is the primary reason I refrain from asking for dances with people who I have never danced with but have seen and hold in high regard. Another manifestation of this insecurity is when I have danced with someone but am left uncertain whether it was a good experience for them. While I feel I am at a point where my dance wouldn't be terribly uncomfortable for a partner, I'm aware that everybody has preferences of style and energy and I wouldn't want to trouble someone if my flavor isn't to their taste.

This can also apply to my state of mind, state of body, or perspective to the tanda. I generally want to give everybody I dance with my best dance, so if I'm feeling off in some way I feel they'd be better off with someone who is more in the groove. And there are some orchestras that I just don't feel I dance well to, which isn't to say I don't like them. Pugliese is one example, although I feel like I may finally be starting to make peace with him. I've always loved his music but it's more a feeling that as a dancer I'm not doing him justice and that my natural demeanor doesn't really fit his drama. Other orchestras, like much of De Angelis or Demare, have signatures that I have yet to grasp and I fail to find the dancing impulse in their sound, although I may perfectly enjoy listening to them.

Curiously, I'm having difficulty recalling an instance where a desire to dance with someone was motivated purely, or even primarily, from a "taking" desire. For example, I'm not one to make notches on my belt, tabulating the number of different dance partners to some scoreboard as if that held any significance. Nor do I think that having danced with a reputable partner does anything to elevate my status. I tend to be driven by the consideration that a partner and I will have good chemistry and will provide one another with a fine interpretation of the music and the moment as well as nurture each other physically, emotionally and psychically.

On a tangent, it seems to me that the perspective from a follower may lean more heavily towards a "taking" intention than that from a leader, in that leaders have more sway over dance interpretation, posture, embrace, etc. and as such are technically (and culturally) placed more overtly in the position of "giving." Whereas followers traditionally wait to be asked to dance (although they "give" consent or dissent) and to a greater degree mould themselves to what the leaders provide them. In this sense, the feeling of variety is more pronounced for followers than for leaders since there are more aspects of leading that shape what ultimately comprises the dance experience. This being the case, the motivation of "taking" becomes more of a factor for followers since much of what becomes identified as a pleasure in tango is the feeling of different leads. Whereas for leaders, much of the pleasure is derived in finding someone who is a good receptor to what they have to give. I'm sure I must be missing much in this presumption, though.

Well, this is something that was on my mind for whatever reason but I'm not sure how to close this entry. As always, thoughts, comments, rebuttals or anecdotes are welcome. Thanks.

Good advice (23 ene 2009)

2009-01-24T03:19:00.000-02:00

Scene: workshop with Cecilia Gonzalez and Donato Juarez. My partner and I working on a movement which is familiar to us but with a novel execution. Cecilia approaches us and nods her head to indicate, "show me."

We do the movement, but given the constraints of space in the crowded workshop and the pressure of performing for Cecilia the execution falls below what I want it to be, and what I know it could be under different circumstances.

"Good," Cecilia says. She scrutinizes my expression for the briefest instant, then turns to my partner. "He doesn't believe me," she says, a teasing grin on her face.

Back to me. Emphatically, "I think you are looking for problems," she says. "Just enjoy it."

Just enjoy it.

Gracias, maestra.

Boredom (17 ene 2009)

2009-01-17T19:31:00.000-02:00

I remember reading or hearing a line once--probably from some caffeine addled motivational speaker--that if you find yourself bored, it just means you are boring. I don't know how true that is, but it's enough to give me pause when I'm in this particular state. Not that I'm the only one. I hear the lament like a refrain, often from dancers I admire and respect. And as far as I can recall, they are all referring to their own dance. More often, I think, this is a problem for leads, who have the privilege of most of the interpretive control.

I find myself in this state from time to time, although on reflection it's generally not when I'm actually dancing. It's more when I'm off the floor, with the dance on my mind. I was on the subject with a tango friend who I have been seeing less of lately, who seems to be in a similar bind. For him, and for myself as well, it's not a matter of steps. Which is to say, neither of us feels that just the learning of new elements or figures is what it would take to get us fired up again. It would have to be something more elusive, deeper in the DNA of the dance, although it's difficult to say what that would be. Maybe a different perspective on how to communicate a lead, or on how to interpret music. A different feeling in the embrace, on the alignment of your body with your partner's. Or something completely new, at least to you. Something you have never seen before but is an honest expression, rather than just a gimmick.

While I feel this is a natural and healthy instinct, I think it's also very important not to neglect things that may have become familiar just because of their familiarity. It's easy to fall into the trap of "grass is always greener," or thinking that someone else's way of doing something must be better than your own. Of course, sometimes that may be true, but it's a mistake to think it must always be so.

Actually, I think one possible factor that feeds dissatisfaction of one's own dance is actually a good thing. That factor is consistency. This is the basis of any useful language. A "tree" is always a tree, and whenever the word is used it evokes the same understanding. And so is a lead always a lead and communication between you and your partner need not be encumbered by uncertainty. Of course, it is the innate creative drive that pushes us to seek new manners of expression. This inspiration, in our best moments, is what makes us poets on the floor.

***

On the subject of boredom, I have also been having increased difficulty watching performances. It pretty much doesn't matter who it is, I often find myself getting distracted somewhere in the middle. Usually I find myself tuning out because I am imagining what I would do at a certain point in the music, or how my overall conception would be different. Or if they get into a particular position or do an interesting figure I imagine what I could do with that position or figure, what the possible entrances and exits and expressive uses could be. Worst of all, sometimes what I'm seeing just looks like something I've seen a million times before. It is this last thing which most disturbs me. Uniformity, in my opinion, is symptomatic of fad mentality, and if we're not careful it will sink tango back into relative obscurity. Which, perhaps, is inevitable anyway. To what degree and in what matter of time is the question. And, I suppose, whether it goes down with dignity or as a caricature of its true self.

I've seen it happen before, back when I was b-boying in the '80's. The thing that killed it for us was that we thought we had seen everything. It was the most popular dance around and everybody was doing the same moves. It came to a point where we thought we had taken it as far as it could go, so we moved on. Luckily, it stayed alive in underground circles, with dancers taking influences from places we never would have thought to look, and when I see the b-boys and b-girls of today I am amazed and proud at where the dance has gone. It will be the same with tango when its cycle has run its course. Although I hope the resurgence continues to grow and expand for a good while. There's still plenty of time, and for the general populace tango is still enough of an enigma that there is a lot of untapped potential interest. I still see a healthy insurgence of newbies toddling through their first classes, eyes aground and bodies unmeshed. Actually, that never gets old to me. Witnessing the process of discovery, the aha! moments, is always something that makes me feel really good. Ah, to be a baby again, when everything is new and exciting...

But to trade in all that I have experienced and all I have gained and for which I have worked, just to see things with those new eyes? Not in a million years. Though there are always frustrations and self-criticisms and so much more work to do and, yes, the occasional boredom and fatigue, I'm happy and proud to be where I am now.

Tension (7 ene 2009)

2009-01-07T05:48:00.001-02:00

It is the bane of my tango, something that has haunted me from the very beginning, something I have been aware of forever and still can't seem to shake. Specifically, it is a tension of the frame from my arms through to the upper back, chest, shoulders and neck. Of lesser relevance but still something I want to address is lower body tension in the toes and in the knees. I guess, really, I'm tense all over. It's one of the main reasons I tend to fatigue relatively quickly. A lot of energy is expended just in the unnecessary engagement of all these muscle groups.

There are several reasons my body tends to default to this, but the main ones stem from my conscientiousness in maintaining a certain aesthetic posture, from wanting clarity of intention to my partner, and aspiring for an embrace that feels present and, for lack of a better word, desirous of my partner.

The problems that arise, aside from the aforementioned inefficiency of the dance, mostly stem from what is transmitted (and, of course, what fails to transmit). The obvious pitfalls are a diminishing of fluidity in the movement, limitation of possibility in movement, and quicker expenditure of energy and possible joint and muscle fatigue. And the problems are amplified when a follower dutifully mirrors the tension. These are all physical detriments. But there are also social/interpersonal issues. For example, excess tension in the leader communicates an authoritarian approach to the follower. In extreme cases, this translates as a dance that feels directed rather than shared.

When working with David and Mariana Tuesday evening, David tried to emulate my approach as I followed his lead. The feeling was that of being driven by a moving wall. David described it as somewhat Frankenstein-ish. Solid, to be sure, but lacking warmth and humanity. This is certainly something I don't want to communicate to a partner. David made the astute point that this is not a feeling that is sensual, and as such my intention of communicating "intimacy" and "desire" become effectively negated.

I tried modifying my approach by consciously dropping as much muscle engagement as possible from my frame while maintaining the shape, and emphasizing more drive from my legs. My partner's response was that she felt she could roll through her steps better, although she felt that the clarity of my intention was slightly muffled, and in the end she didn't necessarily have a preference overall. Also, despite the relaxation I still had difficulty keeping my left shoulder from feeling some strain, although I'm aware it's a result of the kind of projection I like to have in my left arm, primarily for aesthetic reasons. I know I could help ease some of the tension by dropping it and keeping it closer to my body, but at the moment I prefer the visual balance of having a little bit of extension, and so choose this over the slight discomfort.

Despite all this, I'm not one to argue against all tension. Matter of fact, I think there are modern schools of thought that, to my taste, err too far in the direction of softness. My current impression is that this risks compromising clarity, as well as taking away from the intimate quality of the dance. In mentioning clarity, I don't want to give the impression that I advocate a forceful lead, one that is muscled and essentially bullied. I don't like arm or hand leads. I do, however, believe the arms and hands to be useful in shaping the direction of a lead and primarily as extensions of the back, where the directional intention should originate.

Obviously, this is an issue that I'm wrestling with and won't soon solve. I think beyond all the experiments with movement and dynamic possibility I'd like to make this priority one for the new year, with base aesthetic concerns (body positions and flow of movement) closely behind.

some nice caminadas (2 ene 2009)

2009-01-03T04:37:00.000-02:00

It's been a bit since I've posted so I'm guilted into putting something up, although I don't really have much to say right now. Been fairly saturated with tango for the holidays and am feeling burnt, which causes my dance to suffer. I feel bad about that, because I've been lucky enough to share some tandas with some really lovely dancers but my heart just wasn't invested, and I think they deserved more.

But, as always, it'll pass, and I'll likely have some fresh perspective when my focus and energy is renewed. Usually, I'll get to working on fundamentals, which is always my fall back comfort zone. And I already have some things I'd like to polish up (COLLECT!)

Anyway, since I'm on the subject of fundamentals, I figured I'd post some examples of leaders whose walks I admire. Of course, they do a lot more than just walk, but it's in this not so small, good thing where I think they stand out. In no particular order:

Pablo Verón

Miguel Angel Zotto

Ezequiel Farfaro

Sebastián Achával

Fernando Galera

Gabriel Angio

Happy 2009 everybody!

dancers in the dark (13 dic 2008)

2008-12-13T21:20:00.000-02:00

So what exactly is the deal with the low lighting at milongas? I don't know where the consensus happened but apparently the standard here (in SF, and perhaps the states in general) is for milongas to be lit as if by candlelight. Personally, I don't like it. For one thing, it exacerbates the difficulty of the subtle, non-verbal invitations to dance (a topic recently touched on by Alex in his blog.) But the thing I mostly dislike about it is that it makes it more difficult to dance, and it does this in two ways: first, obviously it decreases visibility and so makes it harder for me as a leader to be attuned to my surroundings. Secondly, and I suspect this is part of why people like dim lighting, it makes dancers feel more inclined to be self-obsessed--dancing in their own world, so to speak--thereby making them even less concerned about their surroundings or the impact they are having on the social floor.

When I've asked others why they like dim lighting the response is always about ambience. Some say that with the lights on it feels more like a práctica than a milonga. I don't know about that. I like being able to see everybody dance, and as long as no one is stopping in place or working out a particular difficulty--in short, if the ronda is flowing--then what's the problem? I can think of a few solutions to eliminate the práctica vs. milonga issue. First off, if people would dress up a little at a milonga it will make it feel less casual. Second, people should stop treating prácticas as milongas but rather as places to work out the dance--that pretty much means there doesn't really need to be any semblance of a ronda, or dancing in tandas. You can claim your spot and start working on specific things, stop whenever and discuss, not worry about holding up the line of dance, etc.

One woman told me that women like it darker because they are neurotic about their appearance and the dim light softens things and makes them look better. A concern which seems kind of pointless to me since I'm not looking at a woman when I'm dancing with her but feeling her presence--sorry to tell you this, but darkness does nothing to physically improve a figure. Also, what good does it do for a woman to dress up and make herself look good if I can barely see her? It's a shame all the thought that goes into color coordination that inevitably turns into shades of grey, all the money spent on glorious CIFs that disappear into the shadows. I suppose one thing to take into account is that followers don't have the same sense of responsibility concerning floorcraft, so they don't tend to take the inherent difficulties into account. But I would assume that of primary importance is for a woman to feel safe when she is dancing, and of perhaps lesser importance but nonetheless valuable is that a woman craves a lead that is clear and dynamic. As a leader, all of these qualities are compromised in a darker room because the floor is less controlled and consequently riskier, and as a result I as a leader dance more tentatively and conservatively.

Another thing about dim lighting that I've noticed is that, particularly for late night milongas, dimmer lighting lowers the energy level as the night wears on. It's natural--darkness signals the body to prepare for sleep.

I'm not advocating floodlights all over the place, but there needs to be a balance struck between atmosphere and practicality, and I think most places tend to err on the side of atmosphere. Thoughts?

Elementary Tango Physics (22 nov 2008)

2008-11-22T04:31:00.000-02:00

In the many lessons I've taken in the course of my tango studies, one recurring concept I've heard is the active use of the energy from the ground. In other words, to think of the ground as containing a vast amount of potential energy that you draw from in order to power your dance and communicate with your partner. Not being a physics student, I always thought of this as being a useful visualization method but having no real world basis. Turns out that it does, in a very literal manner. I realize that I'm a Johnny Come Lately on this one, but it was only very recently that I came across the concept of the normal force. In a nutshell, the normal force is the energy that works counter to forces such as gravity for objects on a surface, I suppose to create equilibrium. However, normal force is variable, while gravity isn't. So I think the trick, for tango dancers, is to take that energy and manipulate it to amplify it and channel it in a specific way. A very direct example of this is in propelling the walk. One digs into the ground in a way that increases the normal force, then uses their muscles to oppose this force, which consequently sends a more substantial sense of weight transference to the partner. Thus, a clearer and stronger communication.

In turn, if I understand correctly, varying the amount of normal force energy stored and released plays a key role in the dynamic of the dance. As such, a dance at a constant velocity will essentially flatten out the normal force, since the constancy allows the normal force to come to a neutral balance against the opposing energy, and the result (when done well) is a kind of floating sensation. Conversely, a dance with varied velocity keeps the normal force shifting and thereby gives the dancers more of a sense of active engagement with their weight, and the result (when done well) is like being on a well designed roller coaster. It's kind of like standing on a train; when the train starts to move there is a sudden instability which requires active compensation to maintain balance (dynamic force), but when it gets to a constant speed it becomes much easier (flat force).

In the past my problem was, I'm guessing, an excessive flattening of this force (which is why, I surmise, teachers often reiterated that I use the ground more). The risk in this is that the partner doesn't feel the intention as clearly as she should. As one person put it, borrowing a phrase from Gertrude Stein, "There's no there there." My tendency was, and perhaps still is, to bring the energy up rather than down. The result is a decrease in normal force, which then translates to less of a sensation of weight to transfer, and so the partner feels less drive. And as a leader, clarity of intention is one of the two main qualities I strive for (the other being mutual comfort). I'd much rather a follower say positive things about my clarity than, say, the number of tricks I know.

Anyway, since I found out about this concept this is how I've been mulling it over. I guess it's not the most romantic way of conceptualizing the dance but I think cold analysis has its uses, as long as we don't get lost in them and forget why we dance in the first place.

Mate? (12 nov 2008)

2008-11-11T20:56:00.000-02:00

The other day I was searching around on the web for information about yerba mate and I came across some troubling news. We all know that for a long time the herb has been touted as a kind of wonder food, full of nutrients and anti-oxidants, and has been rising in popularity in this country as an attractive, healthy alternative to coffee as an energy booster. But apparently, there are some sources that are increasingly making the claim that regular mate ingestion significantly increases the risk of certain cancers, particularly that of the mouth and throat. Proponents of the yerba argue that any statistical rise in throat cancer among mate drinkers is more likely due to excessively hot temperature rather than in the yerba itself. But at least one study that did some chemical analysis on several different brands of yerba claims that, though the figures vary widely from brand to brand, the yerba contains a significant amount of certain chemical compounds known as PAHs, which are carcinogenic.

At this point I figure the data is still pretty sketchy, but I think it's a good idea to be aware of the potential for risk and keep attuned as more research is done, and in the meantime enjoy mate in moderation, which is no problem for me. While I like mate very much, I wouldn't describe myself as a habitual drinker. I'll make a batch only a few times a week, and only drink about two to three infusions at a time. I suppose that's well within the range of safety.

As long as I'm on the subject, I'd like to mention some of the yerbas I've tried over the years. My overall favorite is the special blend variety of Rosamonte, which is a brand known for its particularly strong flavor. The special blend has a kind of velvety undertone that almost makes me think of dark chocolate. Another one that I've really liked is Taragui without stems, which has a richer flavor than the stemmed variety. There's a heartiness about it that reminds me a little of fresh baked bread. However, for some reason it seems that Taragui sometimes doesn't agree with my system too well, so I'm starting to shy away from the brand for a while. Most recently, I bought a bag of Amanda. I've only made one batch so far but my initial impression is that it tastes similar to Taragui but softer. It's a very easy one to drink, so I'm happy with it. I've definitely had some that I wasn't so crazy about. One in particular, which I can't remember the name of, was an organic brand that I got for free. I just remember it came in a white bag and tasted terrible, like someone had pulled weeds from their backyard and ground it into yerba.

Anyway, if anyone wants to share some of their thoughts on mate, I'd be interested in hearing about it :)

Tango Recession (8 nov 2008)

2008-10-26T20:23:00.000-02:00

The past few months the tango scene in SF seems to be mirroring the economy as far as milongas are concerned. Almost across the board I'm seeing unusually light attendance. I've spoken with some people about it and we can't figure out exactly what is going on, although there is a tentative consensus on two possible factors. First, that it is indeed a byproduct of the economic crisis, and second, that perhaps the community is getting diluted from having too many options.

The tango community in the Bay Area has ebbed and flowed, growing and shrinking in waves (though generally progressing in the growth direction) but in the last year the number of events has spiked sharply upward. When I look at the calendar on Tango Mango I can't imagine how all the milongas and classes can sustain themselves, although perhaps that's not the point. Maybe the point is to see what ends up working and what doesn't (in the true spirit of a free market, I suppose). I think this is generally how it works in BsAs, where the community is larger but still can't ensure success for all of the numerous tango events going on. I have found that there it is always a back and forth and from week to week the hot venue often changes depending on the circumstances. Competition requires booking a popular act to draw the crowd. In the SF scene, that's a relative rarity. More often than not, there is no dance performance in the middle of a milonga nor live music. The only usual promotion comes from booking a guest dj. While that can affect the energy and flow, overall I think its ability to create the feeling of an "event" is limited. Certainly, the dj factor is not as overt a reason for coming as the promise of a show, and even a great dj can only do so much to combat the sense of sameness in a long running or familiar milonga.

The same can be said for classes. So many teachers, so many different styles. And yet, the menu is generally the same. How does teacher A attract students for his sacada workshop when teacher B ran that subject all last month? Even on the subject of style, though the differences can be fairly marked, the nature of the social dance and the lead and follow requirements necessitate that the distinctions are a matter of degree and not of kind. So it's not too difficult to feel burnt out after a while. And I guess that during this time of cold nights and (inter)national anxiety, it's understandable that people might choose to stay in and watch new episodes of Heroes rather than head out to a class or milonga and dish out precious bucks for more of the same old.

Qué lástima. But there are some exciting things on the horizon--not the least of which is the hope of a new direction for the country--and we'll see how that affects the tango scene.

Side note: I was attending David and Mariana's advanced class on election night, and though it was assumed there would be light attendance for obvious reasons, it turned out the opposite was true. Perhaps it was because of a shared nervousness that made many people need a distraction. At any rate, when the race was called for Obama there was a collective cheer, and at the end of the class David brought out a bottle of champagne which we all shared, each taking no more than a sip as there wasn't enough to go around. David commented that it was a shame there were no McCain supporters as it would have been nice to extend a hand in conciliation. We were all a happy, relieved blue, oh well. I've said it before, the SF Bay Area is probably one of two places I can live here in the states.

Tango ADD (12 oct 2008)

2008-10-11T21:10:00.000-03:00

This past week I have had a peculiar difficulty focusing on my dance. I just can't seem to get into a serious mindset and so every dance ends up becoming this silly, goofy mess. I don't know why I'm in this state, if I'm just so bored with my dance or with the dance in general, or if I'm just mentally fried from concentrating on my form so much that something has broken down and I go the opposite way of dancing as sloppy and immature as I can. I suppose this is useful in its way, though. I explained my situation to Homer and he remarked that it was good to see that someone was finding a place for humor in tango. I have always thought of tango as being far more encompassing than the Discepolian "sad thought" or the generic "vertical expression..." so it's good to practice what I preach. Certainly, some of my favorite dancers have been exhibitors of humor in tango, from Omar Vega to Cappussi/Flores to Los Hermanos Macana. One has to make the important disclaimer that underlying all of their antics is a strong foundation in solid technique and a proper reverence for the culture and traditions. I have seen dancers who utilize humor in their performances but partially to disguise their technical flaws. And of course, there are those whose humor is unintended. Or in a social setting, those who dance with great joy but look--and I surmise, feel--like shit.

I don't mean to disparage anyone's approach but I tend to dislike (unintentional) sloppy dancing both as a dancer and an observer, so my recent predicament has me mildly concerned. Not the least of my worries is that my poor technique is carrying over to my partner and may be causing some bad habits on her part to compensate. One thing for sure is that I have been very lax in my discipline for some months now regarding the technique exercises and drills that I used to practice regularly. I think it's time I get back to that. Hopefully, that will help to sharpen my skills and focus, and also do something to shake off this general malaise and apathy I've been mired in. All week I had been planning to attend Nora's Saturday milonga in order to meet and study with Graciela Gonzalez but tonight I ultimately couldn't even find the wherewithal to leave the house. Pretty pathetic. So far it's been a totally wasted weekend but I still have a chance to catch her in the afternoon for a men's technique workshop so perhaps I'll meet her then.

It takes more than two to make a milonga (30 sep 2008)

2008-09-29T19:30:00.000-03:00

This past weekend had a peculiar slow energy in the Bay Area tango community, at least as far as the milongas were concerned, and I'm not entirely certain why, although I surmise that Luciana Valle's workshops may have had something to do with it. Her all-day workshops are very popular (rightly so) and also demanding, so I'm sure some folks have been conserving their energies to focus on them and/or are exhausted after attending. The All-Nighter at the Beat had a relatively light attendance despite having the wonderful Ney Melo as a guest teacher for the pre-milonga class and also being the closing event of the Tango Insomnia triptych. But I have been hearing from a lot of people lately that they have been feeling unusually fatigued and my sense is that there is something happening climate-wise that is affecting all of our energy somehow. Either that or the world is just getting more stressful in a way that we don't quite register on a conscious level.

Toward the end of the milonga when there were only about three or four couples dancing on the floor I was preparing to put up the dividing wall that splits the room in half but was admonished by a colleague and we got into a discussion about it. My position was that when you have too big of a space for the number of dancers it diffuses the energy of the milonga. Her argument was that the bigger the space the better as it gave the dancers more freedom. I have to say, her stance didn't convince me as even with half the room there was more than enough space for the number of couples to move with great freedom. This isn't to say that I think that milongas need to be crowded to feel cozy or anything like that, in fact, I don't much care for dance spaces where I have to significantly throttle my energy and expression. But it goes back to my perspective that when you dance at a milonga you are dancing with everybody at the milonga. And the way I interpreted her perspective is that she was really only dancing for herself and her partner. I feel if that's your motivation it would be better for you to dance only as a part of a show, or get a studio space of your own.

Even though it's not a big deal, just a difference of opinion, I was and am inordinately adamant and resentful about her position and I'm not completely sure why I feel as strongly as I do. Certainly, there is a petty ego thing about it where I feel she just doesn't "get it," that she's not really a milonguera because she doesn't understand these things. It's the same when I discuss music with people who say traditional/golden age is "boring" and want a lot of "alternative" stuff. But with the former at least, I think part of it is that I get really tired of selfish dancers on the floor, and also that one of the things I miss about the (good) milongas in BsAs is the beauty of watching or being a part of an entire room moving as one harmonious unit.

If anyone would care to share their thoughts on space vs. community on the dance floor, I'd like to hear other perspectives.

cicatrices (25 sep 2008)

2008-09-25T06:25:00.000-03:00

Since I don't have any original thoughts of my own I am once again inspired to write on a topic introduced by a buddy, who is presently encumbered by a dance related injury. So far, I've been pretty lucky as I haven't suffered anything terribly debilitating. The worst I get are the occasional corns from ill fitting shoes, which are easy enough to remedy although it generally takes at least a couple weeks of treatment. The only other ailment I've had which has impacted my ability to dance was a back strain incurred outside of dance which had me sidelined for a number of weeks. Also, I sometimes get shoulder problems from embrace issues, although through modification it has eased greatly.

Most other dancers I know who have been doing it a while have had their share of injury and are more than happy to impart their experience and the hard gained wisdom afterward. We tend to want to steer others away from our mistakes. Yes, injuries are bummers, but pain is a damn good teacher. Also, I like to think of it this way: if I wasn't a dancer, I wouldn't have these injuries, so the fact that I do means I am a dancer. And defining myself as a dancer feels good.

I think it's sometimes easy to take that for granted, but I can remember back before I started when I would regard dancers with awe and respect, and beyond that I would regard them as somehow separate from me, almost like a different class of person. Better, in a way, insofar that they had the wherewithal to pursue this manner of expression which was utterly foreign to me for much of my life. Not that I hadn't had exposure to dance, but growing up, social dancing was always a peripheral thing for me. Something to be admired from afar, even initiated, nurtured and sustained (as a hip hop/freestyle dj in high school). But never to be an actual participant, due primarily to the influence of one particular "friend" who in retrospect was something of a bully with a penchant for cutting down and poking fun whenever I made an effort to learn the popular social dances of the day (which was in a way ironic, since I was one of the more admired b-boys in the area when I was even younger). It was a pretty long road to go from those childhood insecurities to the point where I was confident enough to venture, alone, into the world of social dance, and the one I chose was tango. (Or, I suppose, tango chose me ;P. Sorry.)

So, at least in my case, while tango may be the source of certain kinds of injuries--injuries which, by the way, I carry with pride, like battle scars--it has also proven to be the actualization of a longtime healing process. This is not to say, of course, that tango can't bring about other kinds of difficulties. It is, after all, a dance (and culture) that encompasses all range of experience and emotion and tends to magnify them. But if one is to get ill, better it be from overindulgence in a feast rather than from starvation, that's what I think.

19 sep 2008

2008-09-19T23:50:00.000-03:00

A quick post to remember the wonderful dancer Omar Vega...

I only met him a few times, the first in BsAs at the milonga 444 Maipú. My good friends Negracha and Diego were performing that night and he was one of the few attendees that weekday evening. He seemed very quiet and reserved and sat by himself, but N & D told me that he was a different character once you get to know him. We watched him on the floor and marvelled at his ability to play with the rhythms, all the tiny syncopations he could insert between the follower's even steps without disturbing her in the least. It was like skipping stones over water without making ripples. They introduced me to him but I couldn't say much because of my severely limited castellano. So I sat silently, trying to be present but unobtrusive as they bantered and gossiped back and forth. After the milonga we went to a café where they continued to joke and talk smack about other characters they knew at different milongas. At this point Omar was pretty animated, making rude comments and talking in duck voice as they munched on sweet medialunas and coffee. I was feeling kind of like a wet rag so I wished them a good night and headed home. I was glad to have met him but didn't think I'd made much of an impression.

Some weeks later, I saw him again at La Viruta. I doubted he'd remember me at all so I didn't want to trouble him, but when he saw me he approached me and shook my hand. That was one of the really special moments I remember from that trip. Along with the rest of the tango community I will miss his presence and his influence on all of us who are followers of the dance and the culture, but am so grateful to have made his acquaintance, to have seen him dance, and to have had the opportunity to study with him.

17 sep 2008

2008-09-18T00:40:00.000-03:00

Prompted by a recent post by a buddy who was lamenting the necessity of getting some "ugly ass" practice shoes, I started thinking about apparel and its relation to dance.

I've gone on the record as being unswayed by the manner of ones appearance insofar as fashion is concerned. This, undoubtedly, is due to a large part because I am male. Not that I can't appreciate someone who has obviously gone to pains to make themselves well presentable. But as far as tango is concerned, there are certain possible repercussions from putting dress first.

I recall one instance where in the middle of a dance my lovely partner whispered a request that I press her close and limit my movement. Was she feeling particularly affectionate and wishing to be a bit more intimate? Nice to think so, but no--in fact, she was having a bit of a wardrobe issue as her strapless dress was beginning to succumb to gravity.

I see instances with some frequency--almost always with women--where the clothes become a liability. Heels getting caught in flowing pant legs or dresses, excessively tight skirts restraining the extension of steps, spaghetti straps which constantly fall off the shoulder. Other factors, such as hair, can cause problems as well. I have danced with women who put their hair up in such a way that it impaired my range of vision.

Then there are the shoes. Oh, how women lurve their tango shoes! But I sometimes wonder if that can turn out to be a hindrance to their progress, especially if they make the investment in some high quality, high fashion (re: expensive) tango shoes very early in their stage of learning. I'm just thinking, if it were me and the only dance shoes I had cost me a couple hundred bucks, I don't know how willing I'd be to put them through the brutal paces that working on the dance demands. I'd love to hear people's thoughts on this, but I wonder, for example, if dancing in beautiful new shoes makes you less willing to pass through a tight collect position for fear of scuffing them, or reticent to propel yourself strongly for fear of wearing out the heel or loosening the support. In a nutshell, I wonder whether the concern for the welfare of the shoes outweighs the concern of the mechanism of the dance, at least initially (when the shoes are sparkling new).

Another thing I wonder about is how one weighs priorities when choosing shoes. Of course, comfort, balance and utility are priorities when making one's considerations, but how much is one willing to compromise for shoes that dazzle them on a sheer aesthetic level? Or by sheer status level? By that I admit, I am thinking specifically of Comme Il Fauts, which are considered the epitome of tango fashion. Not to knock them, I think they well deserve their reputation. But it seems that plenty of newbies will not consider anything but the CIFs, partly because of their name. Granted, it's understandable that given the fact that quality tango shoes aren't cheap one would want to spend their money wisely, and if you're going to have only one or two pairs might as well get "the best." But from what I understand, CIFs aren't really ideal for all approaches to the dance. Indeed, my (very limited) perspective is that they are great for elegant salon styles that emphasize walking movements, but seem as if they'd be something of a hindrance to more dynamic approaches given the trademark height of the heels. And seeing that plenty of dancers--particularly young dancers--like using a lot of energetic movements, it would appear that CIFs wouldn't be the most versatile choice of footwear in a milonga.

(Of course I could be completely wrong on this--and of course, good dancers can dance in anything).

I may have mentioned this before, but since I seem to have a habit of repeating ideas in posts I'll say it again... I've found that many, if not most, of the really advanced followers I know tend to prefer a shorter heel. It's exactly the opposite of what I remember hearing when I was still new to tango, that in BsAs the locals could tell the tourists at a milonga by the size of their heels; that is to say, real porteñas--real experienced tango dancers--wore their heels sky high. I wonder if women new to the dance sometimes want to assert their "belonging" to the dance by wearing the highest heels they can find, as if to prove they really are tangueras. Whereas women who have more experience with the dance and are well established in "the scene" no longer feel the need to prove themselves to anybody and are more concerned with shoes that afford them the most freedom of motion and will accommodate the greatest range of dancing styles.

Looking over what I've written so far, I realize that I am being very gender specific in my ruminations. Perhaps that's unfair. Certainly, I have seen men who have made curious selections regarding wardrobe, but it's a lot less common. Guys, being guys, typically go for comfort. We tend to be a lazy lot, and as long as we are clean and unoffensive to the olfaction we trust, and appreciate, you beautiful women to tolerate us. At any rate, I'd lurve to hear other thoughts on this...

14 sep 2008

2008-09-14T23:13:00.000-03:00

Haven't had much to write about lately. Think I'm riding a downswing in tango enthusiasm. For the most part, right now I feel that what keeps me active and in the loop is that I enjoy the community and just hanging out with all the people who now comprise my most familiar circle of friends. Practice is good, social dancing is good. One thing that's been missing is the drive toward progression. I just don't care all that much to get better or to learn new things or explore possibilities. This lethargy will most likely pass, as it always has, but I'm not really all that concerned whether it does or not. Maybe part of that is because I know I'm a pretty good dancer as I am--good enough, at least. And good enough is good enough for me (for now).

From time to time I wonder exactly what it is that drives me to get better or to learn more. The most simple answer to that is sheer curiosity. And maybe that's the only answer. Since I don't necessarily have the ambition to perform or teach, what other reason can there be? I think my present issue is that a good amount of what is possible is no longer a big mystery to me. Which is not to say I know how to do everything or that I know how everything works. But for much of the movements that are popularly performed I can generally parse the mechanisms at work, and so the magic--so to speak--is lost. Kind of like how knowing too much about special effects production takes the fun out of a movie.

This is also problematic when it comes to watching performances. I don't get very excited about watching performances anymore, and speaking with some colleagues I find there is a common consensus about the cooling of interest (YouTube definitely has had an effect regarding this). While my disinterest is certainly not true in all cases, I can say that stage tango or fantasia pretty much leaves me cold, perhaps because it seems to try too hard to wow me. So what do I like to see? I thought about it a bit and I think there are two main things that capture my attention, and if a performance has at least one of these qualities I can be enthralled. The first is quality of movement/attention to detail. I much prefer watching a couple who dances simply and pristinely over a couple who dances with great complexity but with rough edges. I think it's because real elegance and refinement is more of a rarity these days than arsenals of acrobatics. (Of course, some dancers are gifted with both).

The second is harder to define, but let me put it this way: if it seems that a couple's main priority is to project something externally, I lose interest. But if it seems that a couple's main priority is something meant primarily for each other and that the external projection comes about as a consequence of that, then it draws me in. I suppose as a viewer, I enjoy being a voyeur over being an spectator.

Anyway, these are some of the thoughts I've been mulling over.

another one...

2008-09-04T00:37:00.000-03:00

Palin: Nothing gets done in the senate.

McCain = Arizona Senator.

"Apilado style sucks. Gavito is the greatest."

quick thought....

2008-09-04T00:31:00.000-03:00

Giuliani: Change is not a destination.

Palin: If you want change, vote McCain.

Republicans would probably be lousy tango djs.

1 sep 2008

2008-09-01T23:54:00.000-03:00

So. Very. Tired. Without going into detail, work has been crazy busy the past few weeks. Every day I wake up physically exhausted, and today I voluntarily went in despite the holiday to which I was entitled, just to try to catch up (which I didn't). So that pretty much saps the energy to do much of anything, blogging included. Although that doesn't entirely account for the month I've been away from posting. Of course, a few weeks back the Olympics were on, and sorry, but everything else takes a back seat for me when the Olympics are on. Now, I'm really not much of a sports fan--three out of four years I couldn't care less about most of the events--but during the Olympics I'm riveted by everything. And with the miracle of modern technology you can keep up with just about all of it. It's an investment and takes some discipline, but great if you're into that kind of thing. At the end of it I felt similar to how I did after my first trip to BsAs--two weeks with little sleep. I think the games are just about the perfect length because I don't think I'd be able to keep up my enthusiasm for any longer.

Despite all the extraneous activities (which of course refers to anything not tango related) I still managed to adequately keep up with my dancing and practicing, although certainly more with the latter. And in the past couple weeks I filled in as head organizer for the all-nighter at The Beat and shared dj duties at Cellspace along with Dan Peters. The all-nighter in particular was taxing. In the experiences I've had where I was put in charge of things I find that I just can't get in the mind set to enjoy myself. I'm always trying to make sure everything is running okay and that those who are assisting me aren't doing more or less than their due share of work, although ultimately I'm not one who is especially adept at delegating authority and am more prone to want to do things myself. I suppose it's a good thing to be aware of for any future event where I'm in that kind of position. Just write it off as a night I'm not there to partake of the activities but to make sure everybody else gets the best experience. Like being the designated driver.

Similarly, it's very difficult for me to join in when I'm responsible for the music. I always want to make sure the sound quality is okay and that the people are responding well. Dj duty at Cellspace is even trickier given that you are trading off with another dj and have to play off of what they are playing to keep a logical flow to the proceedings. Adding to the difficulty is this month's "experiment" where the music switches from traditional to alternative every other tanda, and adding on to that was the extra experiment given to Dan and me to switch off between one another after every two tandas. These stipulations made it near impossible for me to get any time to dance and so I didn't bother for the most part (I gave in for one song to allow my friend, who is recently trying to practice the leader's part, the opportunity to weave me around the floor--sadly, I don't think I was the most responsive follower she's had :P) In the end, I think we pulled it off well, and several people approached me and commented that they *love* the traditional-alt format. My own opinion... well, I think I should discuss it with the organizers.

Anyway, once my workload eases up I'm looking forward to going out more socially once again. In the meantime, I'm dealing with a gnarly corn on my little toe that makes it painful just to put my shoes on. Of course it affects my ability to dance or practice and also weighs in on my decision whether I want to go out dancing or not. Hopefully, it'll be under control by the time Luciana's workshops start at the end of the month.

26 jul 2008

2008-07-26T01:41:00.000-03:00

I suppose it's partly because I've been with tango for as long as I have that I tend to be pretty lax about posting. I'm staying active, fitting it into an almost daily activity, and I am enjoying everything I am getting from it including the inevitable frustrations. As ever, I'm trying to work on a significant and fundamental change in the way I walk, the way I hold my carriage and the way I embrace, even though what has become comfortable seemed to have served me well enough. Progress is slow and when things manifest themselves in a positive way it is a tiny, incremental ascension, barely even noticeable except perhaps from those who are very familiar with my dance or those with well tuned sensitivities (much to my good fortune, often the qualities are shared). At any rate, nothing to get too excited about, and nothing I can honestly dress up in writing.

For the past few months I have been taking the advanced classes with the wonderful David and Mariana and am learning a lot and having a blast with the exploration and experimentation of the dynamic possibilities in some of the more recent developments in tango expression. But I have to admit, as much as I love to watch and to utilize such ("nuevo-"... "neo-"... "__"...) movements, it seems the more I study and practice them the more it heightens my awareness of how much I adore and ultimately prefer dancing with an approach that is more ("traditional"... "classic"... "__"...). I don't mean to argue sides or make claims regarding one approach or the other. I value all of the voices that stem from a place of true reverence and immersion in tango--and indeed, lately in practice I have been exploring the newer stuff probably more than anything else. I just personally prefer--at least, in social dancing--the feeling of a close and relatively consistent embrace coupled with movements that don't demand too much of me or my partner. Not saying that a more modern and dynamic approach doesn't have its place, but for me it tends to feel like I'm working the dance more (although it's a kind of work as play thing), and also I think it's more difficult to dance as a natural part of / contributor to the ronda as a whole in this manner. And I guess I just love the feeling of someone's heartbeat against mine, of being attuned to their breathing and trying to match it, and slowing down or pausing when I feel that either is getting too worked up (my tendency is to move kind of a lot and perhaps a bit on the quick side). I love the feeling where in the beginning there is a certain level of heightened attuning from the follower as she prepares to acclimate herself to my body, my embrace, and my lead, and during the course of the dance there is that feeling of gradual settling where she gets comfortable and her body relaxes and moves with mine without the need for so much mindful awareness. I love to feel a smile against my cheek, the suppleness and lack of tension in the temple indicating closed eyelids. These are details that are very subtle and I admit I can't always tell for sure if they are there, but it's a nice feeling even if I only think I feel it.

But anyway... since I haven't had much in the way of anything fresh to say or of reporting on any tango activity I thought I'd share something kind of goofy, something I came across which I may never have noticed if it wasn't for my involvement in tango.

Recently, on YouTube I looked up a Bugs Bunny cartoon--the classic "Rabbit's Kin"--that I had loved as a kid and hadn't seen for a long time. This is the one where he encounters a frantic little bunny running for his life from the hungry clutches of Pete Puma:

I probably saw this short dozens of times as a kid but it wasn't until now that I noticed the nice little touch where Pete, dressed as Mrs. Rabbit, struggles with standing in heels. It's a total throwaway detail, not really necessary to get the humor of the situation across, but I so appreciate that they put it in there. And if I wasn't acutely aware of the difficulty that certain shoes can inflict on untested feet I may have never caught it (although I'm sure it's patently obvious to women and girls everywhere). Tip of the hat to the directors and animators; fifty years on most of the stuff can't touch what you guys were doing with regularity back then. Also, I have to add that I wouldn't be surprised if much of my musicality was subconsciously developed from all the old cartoons I watched as a kid. Again, it's something I never paid attention to back then, but the way they used music and matched it with the onscreen action (and vice versa) is a really masterful choreography that adds so much enjoyment, and in such an unobtrusive manner.

15 jul 2008

2008-07-14T04:22:00.000-03:00

I'm sure it's been said before, but I'll say it again--YouTube is a blessing and a curse for tango.

On the one hand, it's great to have instant access to clips from Gustavo and Giselle, Chicho and Juana, Javier and Andrea, Miguel Angel and Milena, Pepito and Suzuki, etc. I'm sure this is one of the major contributors to the huge acceleration in progress time for recent dancers. On the other hand, the allure of watching live performance has definitely plummeted. I remember how it was a big deal to come across a video of the CITA performances, how on special occasions a teacher would schedule a broadcast ahead of a milonga, setting up a big screen TV and some rows of chairs and everyone would gather and be awed by what they saw. Or when a show like Forever Tango came to town we would snatch up the tickets and be swept away by the production.

Now, at least for myself, it's really hard to feel excited about seeing anyone perform, with the notable exception of friends who I admire and want to cheer. The novelty of movement is pretty much gone for me. Choreography, in particular, leaves me cold. I concede that watching a performance live is a different experience from watching something prerecorded, but even so I'm generally kind of meh about it.

Maybe that's not completely accurate, though. Maybe it's not *all* performance that I'm tired of, but just the look at me! stuff. All the fancy kicks and acrobatics, the exaggerated melodrama. When I think about it, I'm often more compelled by very quiet, slow movements. I suppose it's a matter of dramatic tension. It kind of reminds me of something that my favorite pianist said; to paraphrase, it's not the fortissimos that make the biggest impression on an audience, but the silences.

Also, it's important that a performance feels honest to me. By that I mean there isn't the feeling of something that's been planned out, or of movement for movement's sake, or of manufactured emotion or connection between the partners beyond the mechanical. I suppose this is why I can be mesmerized by some performers' social dance while feeling more disinterested in their actual performance tango.

Anyway, what got me onto this subject was the Friday night milonga for Nora's Tango Week, the "Graduation Night" milonga where all the instructors put on a show midway through. They were great, as to be expected, although I felt that they were saving their "A" material for the next evening which was the final Celebration Milonga to cap the festival. And not to disrespect any of the other maestros, but to be honest the only reason I went was to see Gustavo and Giselle Ann. I have nothing but the utmost admiration and respect for this couple, but I have to admit that seeing them perform live didn't inspire me as I thought it would. Again, perhaps it was because they were saving their better performances for the following evening, or that they were tired from performances from the previous evening. But I do believe that some of the effect was diluted by the accessibility of their performances online, which I watch with some regularity.

Fortunately, they later did a bit of social dancing and it was fascinating to see how they executed in the compromised space of such an unruly dance floor. They managed to maintain a fairly high level of dynamic energy but there were also plenty of instances where they had to tone things down considerably, and in these moments there was often the sense of a lot of tiny accentuations where they were playing with complex rhythms in the music. Also, their bearing is really compelling, in part because it seems to be a combination of some directly opposing projections. On the one hand they are *super* authoritative on every movement they make--everything is done with great strength, clarity and intensity. Yet at the same time their is a casualness about the movements, almost an absentmindedness about it, as if the complex things they do are the most natural, obvious, inevitable things in the world. To go back to a piano analogy (for some reason I can't resist today), it's like how someone described meeting Horowitz and mentioning a particularly tricky passage from a Chopin concerto, to which Horowitz sat down at the piano and played the passage "as if it just tumbled from his sleeve."

Anyway, if I had a choice to go back to the days before YouTube or to have things as they are now, I'd pick the latter, even though I do feel something has been lost. I guess it's a similar feeling to when you discover something great that few others know about, but then everybody finds out about it and the thing gets hugely popular, there's that feeling that the thing that was so special for you isn't quite as special anymore. Or maybe it's just the curse of too much knowledge, where nothing is really mysterious or magic anymore. Ah well...

9 jul 2008

2008-07-09T17:33:00.000-03:00

More Sebastián and Roxana:

Yeah, that would be nice...

After class yesterday, David was kind (?) enough to take a video clip of me and A dancing some simple walking steps. Watching it over later, it's difficult not to obsess over the things I don't like. I honestly think that A looks great, but there are some things that I do that I'd like to modify. Some of the main points are:

-I seem to linger in the open position between my steps, and this is especially prevalent and problematic in my back step.

-I tend to excessively extend my steps in the direction of movement rather than letting them fall underneath me following a strong propulsion from my core and base leg.

-I think it would help if I got used to pushing back with my lumbar more.

-There is an overall excess of rigidity in my posture.

-I'd like to utilize more "dancing" expressiveness in my legs and feet. Hell, with the whole body, really.

Perhaps most troubling, I look out of sync with the music. This is something I have difficulty understanding because internally it feels like I am attuned to the cadence and rhythm, and I definitely know the music, but seeing it from the outside it just looks off. I'm wondering if there is something mistaken with the way I conceptualize marking time from a visual perspective.

At any rate, it's always good to see yourself dancing just to compare how you see yourself as opposed to how you actually are. I wonder if they will ever become one and the same; my sense is they will not. Which is actually kind of reassuring to me because I love the work that comes with aspiration.

Anyway, Happy Argentine Independence Day :)

5 jul 2008

2008-07-05T05:09:00.000-03:00

Planned to use the day off of work to catch up on some rest but no such luck. Was awoken by a long distance call from a friend who needed to vent and afterward couldn't get back to sleep. Spent much of the rest of the day at the computer, where I'm re-encoding my tango files at a slightly higher bit rate. Don't know how much of a difference it would make but I'd like to think that there are some nuances that will be enhanced. During the course of it I found that iTunes was doing some glitchy things in organizing the files and that took a while to clean up. By the time I was done it was already close to time to go out.

If I had my druthers I would have stayed in, but last night at the milonga I met up with a friend who asked me to come to her milonga tonight. When I got there I noticed it was unusually taxing for my legs when I ascended the stairway to the ballroom. I sat for a while and watched, and after a time my friend sat next to me and we chatted for a bit. When a vals set came on she proposed a dance, and something very unfamiliar to me happened. I arose from my chair and my legs buckled a bit. I recovered quickly and we danced some nice sets together, but throughout I felt very unsteady. When we were done I took a seat to rest for a while and watch the dancing, but soon I found myself fighting to keep my eyes open. I ended up dancing one last tanda with someone I didn't know which was nice but fairly rudimentary, then headed home. Now I'm going to have a quick late snack before I hit the hay.

Bonus: here are a couple of clips from the last night of SFTX where Dan and Pier arranged a hilarious impromptu rendition of the key scenes in Sally Potter's The Tango Lesson, with Nick Jones playing Gustavo, Evan Griffiths playing Fabian, Carlos Moreno playing Sally, and Tova Moreno playing Pablo. Disfruta!

4 julio 2008

2008-07-02T04:24:00.000-03:00

"If I miss one day of practice, I notice it. If I miss two days, the critics notice it. If I miss three days, the audience notices it." --Ignacy Jan Paderewski

Since SFTX it's been a fairly constant stream of tango. Watching all the wonderful dancers reawakened something in me and got me to thinking that I could be--and should be--a lot better than I am. And so I'm making the effort, and so far it seems to be paying off. I still don't dance as much as some people, perhaps even most people. But the regularity of it appears to have had several positive effects on my dancing. It takes me less time to get warmed up, I feel a bit more comfortable navigating in a social environment, I'm adjusting easier to different partners, and I bounce back quickly after a dance that is less than ideal (and happily, even those dances haven't been that bad at all).

There is so much tango activity in the Bay Area this summer it's ridonculous. After SFTX, among other things, I took a fantastic class on boleos taught by visiting instructor Dani Tuero, checked out Trio Garufa live at Ashkenaz, assisted at the All-nighter in Berkeley, cheered on my friends at the Union Square milonga, did my weekly study at David and Mariana's advanced class, dj'd at CELLspace, and tonight I'm just getting back in from the kick-off milonga for Nora's Tango Week. Aside from the world class instructors at Nora's, other recent and upcoming guest teachers are Omar Vega, Jorge Torres, Donato Juarez, Tete and Silvia, Oscar Mandagaran and Georgina Vargas, Gato and Andrea... and of course, this is on top of all the great local teachers.

It's really an embarrassment of riches lately and I'm trying to take in as much as I can. Needless to say, I'm pretty exhausted already. But I'm finding that the barrage of tango is keeping my instrument in tune to a degree that is kind of new to me. I guess the question is how long I can keep this up.

25 jun 2008

2008-06-25T03:33:00.000-03:00

Still recovering from SFTX. As I've said before, I'm not really one for festivals, but I have to admit I had fun. Didn't do much dancing, but met some really nice people and got a fill of eye candy. Although, to call it eye candy is to minimize something which was more substantial than that. Maybe it would be more apt to call it an "eye meal" or something. "Eye dinner". A lot of good dancers from around the country and beyond, converged on my home turf. Pretty humbling, especially considering that a fair number have danced tango for significantly less time than I have. Depressing, in a way, yes. But inspiring as well. One thing it tells me is that if I want my dance to progress at a greater rate I'm just going to have to grit my teeth and dance a lot more often with more people in different environments. It seems to me that the people who are prone to attend festivals are more likely to have better adaptability under varied dance conditions.

And that's not to say I didn't dance at all. I snuck in a few here and there, the good ones were wonderful, the lesser ones were my fault (under the conditions) but I enjoyed them nonetheless.

Now I feel the bug coming on again. Time to show these whippersnappers what's what ;P--I'm ready to work.

20 jun 2008

2008-06-20T04:54:00.000-03:00

SFTX kickoff at The Beat tonight (as opposed to the preliminary at CELLspace last night). Packed to the gills and stiflingly hot. Folks regularly stumbling out of the ballroom to get some respite in the fresh night air, appearing mushy and worn like steamed carrots. Got a few dances, tried to keep a light attitude but knew I was off my game. My entire dance completely falls apart in social situations, and the degree to which it crumbles is directly proportional to how packed the dance floor is, how uneven the flow is, and how familiar or unfamiliar my partner is. For many reasons I just tend to lose composure. I sometimes feel that for those who know my dance when I'm feeling relaxed and free I become a complete stranger when I get uncomfortable. It's that profound. I guess it's kind of the Cindy Brady syndrome, where she froze up in the game show when the "on air" light was on. At one point I stepped on someone in a back step. Felt bad about that but really did try to minimize the weight, and at least I was wearing my practice shoes with the foamy heels. Think I've developed a bad habit of taking a back step too often. Even though by all rights I should have the space if the couple behind me is respecting their distance, I shouldn't expect it as a matter of course, especially when the floor gets full. I'll try to keep this in mind.

Side note: I found an interesting article in Scientific American regarding dance and brain evolution, where they mapped out specific points of brain activity among tango dancers. It's probably best to read the article because I won't be able to summarize it justly. Also, in the print edition there is a fascinating side snippet regarding studies done with people with Parkinson's Disease who began dancing tango. Reading about it reminded me of the great Gavito, who danced wonderfully despite being afflicted with PD (the only real giveaway is his left hand). And also in the print edition there's a nice little picture with one of my favorite dancers (apparently, it's a pretty old picture because her partner is one she split from a while back).

19 jun 2008

2008-06-19T05:06:00.000-03:00

I hate to keep returning to this show, but I have to say it's getting harder and harder to stay objective about what they are promoting.

Tonight I was, I suppose, fortunate in that I missed the segment where the couple dances "Argentine Tango." At the end of the show I saw a snippet, and it contained the same exact "back of the head boleo" as this clip from Nuit's blog, which was a few seasons back. Later, I went to IMDB to read the recap and apparently one of the judges suggested that the woman "could have been a bit sleazier, which is what the dance calls for." I sincerely hope that the recap is some kind of misquote, although my gut tells me it's probably not.

I don't need to tell you guys, that makes me pretty sick.

Later in the show another couple danced a "salsa" routine. The woman happened to be Cuban and had salsa in her blood but was noticeably uncomfortable during the learning phase with the choreography she was presented with. At one point in the routine she was to stand on her hands and do a kind of stag split position. Her reaction to that was that it seemed like something out of Cirque du Soleil, which is certainly a reasonable reaction given her perspective. Subsequently, she was having a lot of difficulty learning the routine and the choreographer made the comment that "she's not a real salsa dancer, she dances street salsa."

To me, that comment in itself fairly screams of the incompetence of the speaker. In my mind, this guy doesn't demonstrate a genuine, visceral knowledge of dance, at least in what has been shown. He demonstrates a knowledge of flash and movement, if anything. But to dismiss the roots of a dance is to misunderstand the dance completely.

Incidentally, this was the same guy who choreographed the "Argentine Tango" as well. His name is Alex Da Silva and word needs to get out that there are some of us who believe he's a fraud, at least in what he is passing himself off as an authority on this show.

***

Meanwhile, the SFTX kicked off with the preliminary milonga at CELLspace, which was as packed as I've ever seen it. I showed up to get my participation kit, said hi to some friends, ate a cookie...and went back home. There wasn't much room to move on the dance floor, and besides I didn't bring my shoes anyway. Wanted to save my energy for the rest of the week. I have to say, I loved some of the cortinas I heard--I think they were from Suba. I caught few bits of M.I.A. and the theme from Once Upon a Time in China (it sounded westernized so I'm guessing it was from the sequel set in Nevada).

Not entirely sure what to expect from the exchanges and not sure I'll have anything of worth to contribute. I feel that so much of what I know in the dance is just an "at this point" kind of thing and as such I have reticence in making a confident statement about anything. Oh well, guess we'll see how it goes.

16 jun 2008

2008-06-16T06:19:00.001-03:00

Sebastián Achaval and Roxana Suarez are among my favorite dancers of the younger generation. They tend to keep things relatively simple and don't really break much new ground, but there is clearly a lot of focus on quality of movement that I admire. There is always such fluidity in the way they dance. Sebastián kind of reminds me of Finito in this regard. Those who know my dance can probably see how they have inspired me. I think that most people tend to be more interested in exploring the different types of movements that are possible, and while I also enjoy studying and watching that emphasis, I find that at this point it's hard to get surprised or enchanted by watching anything new or supposedly new. (Chicho is one of the consistent exceptions). So when I see dancers who have clearly worked hard on squeezing out every detail of basic elements, making the simple things beautiful and making more complex things seem simple and combining it all into an expression of connection and emotion unfettered by technical obstacles, that I find refreshing, and something that speaks to me.

11 jun 2008

2008-06-12T02:08:00.000-03:00

Wow... did that choreographer on SYTYCD just say it took *weeks* to learn tango?

Well, uh, with all due respect I'm afraid I have to dis-- oh wait. You mean that "tango." Okay, never mind.

Kidding aside, it can be really easy for us aficionados to take these things to heart and get all huffy and defensive about it, but I figure that the tango we know and love doesn't really need to be defended. It's been around a lot longer than any of us have so I'm pretty sure it can take care of itself.

Still, it got me to thinking about people who just don't seem to "get it," and in particular people who do run in tango circles, are a part of the community and are no strangers to milongas or prácticas yet still somehow come across as missing the point somehow.

My immediate thought is that perhaps many of these people mistakenly limit their perception of tango as a dance and approach it with that strict focus in mind, rather than taking into account that tango is, in fact, an entire culture, and the dance is ultimately a projection of how the culture affects the dancer. In other words, if a dancer doesn't have the culture embedded inside of them, the dance will be a hollow expression rooted in nothing. I posit that this is why even dancers of great skill can somehow seem incongruous, while dancers with lesser techniques can project a sense of belonging. And why a show like SYTYCD can't possibly portray anything that will ring true to any milonguero or tanguero.

(No disrespect intended, but given the constraints of the show there's just no time for tango immersion.)

8 jun 2008

2008-06-08T19:21:00.001-03:00

Random topic: concern with doing the dance "right"--

I've always had difficulty being genuinely creative, and a big part of that is because I have always approached the study of art with a preoccupation on mimicry. Of course, this is natural, as many if not most artists early in their careers produce work that has been inspired by the work of another. This tendency manifests itself across the board, whether in painting, writing, music, or of course, dance. Eventually, should the artist persevere, he has a tendency to evolve, and one of the earmarks of evolution is the finding of one's own voice. Perhaps I haven't endured long enough in my pursuits of different artistic avenues to get to that point.

Tango is no different. I find myself watching the dancers I most admire and want to emulate them. This is one of the reasons I have historically had difficulty watching myself on video as I judge myself harshly when I don't look like so-and-so when I dance. I would also find myself evaluating others on their form relative to so-and-so. Then there is the "feel" factor, where I get feedback regarding how my lead feels compared to so-and-so and I try to adjust accordingly to closer emulate that feeling.

Outside of form, there is also the desire to learn specific types of movement that others have mastered, and in pursuit of this we take specifically focused lessons and watch videos of others doing these movements--trying to enganche like Pulpo, lapiz like Farfaro, adorn like Javier, etc.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with this. It is the basis of tango teaching as a profession and of developing a specific tango vocabulary of defined and categorized elements for the student.

But the thing is, there is such a rich history and so many possibilities that have been developed that one can spend all their time trying to get a handle on all that has already been done, and doing them exactly how so-and-so does them. While that may in some ways be a noble goal for an individual, they will never reach the point of true evolution as an artist should they go this route. They will be so immersed in trying to reproduce the dance voices of others that they will never really develop their own. You could say that rather than being a creative artist, they will be a re-creating artist. If everybody focused their attentions thus, the dance itself would never evolve.

I'm finding that as I grow as a dancer there is a funny, seemingly paradoxical phenomenon regarding my judgment. On the one hand, my attention to detail magnifies and I get more sensitive to flaws and the level of quality in movements and expression. But on the other hand, in a way the flaws and the level of quality matter less to me than they used to.

I think it's really easy to get caught up in the mindset of rigid categorization. The mind works this way in order to make efficient definitions, thereby making the world easier to understand. There is comfort in this, but there is a consequent risk of creating a narrow perspective. We all know those people who have been in tango for a while and staunchly promote what they think is "real" and what is "right" and what is "good"--and what is not. Maybe we are one of those people. I'm sure it's the subject of a large proportion of the sideline murmurings at milongas. I myself am guilty of this at times. It makes for stimulating conversation, even if only to hear yourself toot your own horn. But I'm finding at this stage of the game for me I am getting more and more open to different means of expression, which has always been a philosophy I have valued but have not always been able to truly adhere to. I think part of it's because when you have a specific conception of a goal, it seems easier to get to that goal if you devalue all the other possible goals. And also, it's comforting to be convinced that the goal you have chosen is the one with the greatest value.

But of course, there is beauty and depth in diversity, and while everybody knows it's important to keep this in mind I think it's surprisingly easy to drift to the clique mentality of categorization. And we all know the risk of clique thinking is a pressure to conform. Then again, there is something to be said about respect for tradition and the knowledge of those who came before. It's a fine balance of carrying on a legacy and of putting a spin on it that remains true to the legacy.

Or else, you can take what you learn from the legacy and create something vastly different. Aside from being difficult it can also be particularly intimidating to go this route considering the unknown reaction from peers and the vulnerability of presenting something you have created, which makes acceptance or rejection more personal. But if it catches, what a contribution to the world of humanities you would make!

I particularly get inspired by the story of a guy named Don Campbell, who didn't seem to give a damn that he wasn't doing something "right." This is a part of his bio that I pulled from Wikipedia:

The beginning of Locking can be traced to one man, Don Campbell. In the late 1960s he put together several fad dances adding moves of his own (notably the "Lock") when performing. The original lock was created by accident: Don Campbell couldn't do a move called the Funky Chicken and stopped at a particular point. He wasn't able to perform it fluently, for he couldn't remember which step to take next. (Even the acting towards the audience was of spontaneous nature: people started laughing at Don because of his unfamiliar moves, whereas he started pointing at them.) These halts soon became popular as Don added them into his performances. The resulting dance was called Campbellocking, which was later shortened to Locking.

What I take from this is, at least sometimes, if we embrace our mistakes they might lead us to something that is a unique reflection of ourselves, and if we share that with the world maybe they might embrace that reflection as well. And that, to me, is what it means to be genuinely creative.

6 jun 2008

2008-06-06T05:33:00.000-03:00

Practice today was kind of a mess. I'm in a transitional phase and everything is all jumbled up. It's like a Rubik's cube that I've scrambled and have to figure out how to put all the colors back into place, but I keep adding squares to it. I think I must be driving A a little nuts. Not only am I trying to incorporate some new ideas into my dance but I'm also finding it difficult to focus lately, which makes my movement and my connections inconsistent to say the least. Even fundamental elements feel very uncertain. I'm not worried about it since I'm so familiar with this part of the process, but it is one of those things where you kind of just step back and go "Huh."

A is in a transitional phase as well, and while I think it is a parallel progression with mine in practice it seems to come across as disharmonious. That is to say, pairing my growing pains with hers adds up to a collection of difficulties that seem more than the sum of their parts. But I think this, too, is normal. Even a couple who are very familiar with each other can't be expected to have exactly the same wrinkles to iron out. And in the process of reinvention the roughness of each will create cacophony together.

I have just started reading a book called Social Intelligence by Daniel Goleman and there are some pretty fascinating insights about the way people connect with one another which I think reveals a lot about why tango is such a powerfully spellbinding dance. I won't delve too deeply into it here, but I just wanted to mention an idea that he presents about rapport. If I understand correctly, there are specific kinds of neurons in the brain called "mirror neurons" which are of primary importance regarding our degree of empathy. These neurons fire in a manner that makes us actually feel something that is observed, ie. seeing a smile makes us happy, and even goes so far as to make us physically mimic the behavior and the physical expression in turn reinforces the feeling, ie. smiling makes us happy. Rapport, then, is determined by how effectively the mirror neurons of the people involved are attuned to one another. This can physically manifest itself in such ways as mirrored body positions, synchronized breathing, and matching speech rhythms. Now when people have a good rapport it is an energy that cycles like waves on a beach. The better the rapport, the more in sync the energy is between the parties, and like waves, the energies amplify when they converge in sync. Conversely, when the energy is not in sync the waves cancel one another out, and the rapport becomes strained.

Not to say that A's and my energies are cancelling each other out, but I will say that when I do something imprecisely in one way, and she simultaneously does something imprecise in another way, it throws that particular moment pretty far off. There were a lot of times when we were going "Whoa!" and struggling to hang on to one another. Kinda fun, actually. I think sometimes it's a good thing to allow yourself to lose control, otherwise it gets too comfortable to play it safe all the time and that's just going to keep you away from all the potentially risky but rewarding things you could be exploring. But, of course, being connected and in control is what tango is all about, and so we veer away from harmony only to try to come back again, hopefully richer for the journey.

***

Cellspace went well. I hadn't been there in a few months and there were a lot of faces new to me. This, I think, is one of the great things about this milonga. For so many people it is their gateway into tango. By welcoming folks in through an open, inviting community, mixing it with music which may not be so foreign, and often danced in a way that is overtly exciting, I think it is a place which has done so much to transition people in to this culture, which in its pure form can be somewhat too subtle for those without experience.

My music selections were well received, with one notable exception. I began an alternative set with a Japanese pop song and damn near cleared the floor. About three quarters of the people who were dancing the previous tanda walked off during the cortina and maybe about half of those people returned to dance this song. I was kind of surprised since I had played another very similar song by the same group at a previous evening and the crowd loved it then. I originally had planned to follow with another "alternative" song but decided to switch it literally at the last minute with something more familiar and tango-based, which promptly brought the dancers back on the floor. That was a moment I feel kind of proud about. I think it's an indication that I'm getting more experienced as a dj at reading the energy of the room and being able to get things back on course when things go awry.

One thing that I was really happy to get to play was a vals tanda by O.T.V. I don't usually play their valses because I'm not sure the few that I have go all that well together. They just seem to have different characters, different sound qualities, and for the most part different singers. But I figured at Cellspace they wouldn't be so picky, and I threw together three great songs that I can't recall hearing at a milonga--Intima (with Lafuente), Sin Rumbo Fijo (with Vargas), and for me the cherry on top, Temo (with Corrales). Just *love* that last one, probably my favorite vals right now. To me it sounds like what Fresedo (although yeah, I know, his valses are...well, not great for dancing), Donato, and Tchaikovsky might come up with if they got together to compose something. It's energetic and lively, but also has this lovely bittersweet quality and some really colorful orchestration. One of those songs that you either dance it with exactly the right person or not at all. Then again, for me, that's every song...

4 jun 2008

2008-06-04T03:41:00.000-03:00

Tonight I have dj duties at Cellspace and I still have no idea of what to play for the "alternative" portions of my sets. I sat in front of my computer with the intention of cobbling together a few possible tandas but instead I am procrastinating by writing this. Course, if I had my druthers it would be golden age through and through, but the Cellspace milonga being what it is there is an obligation to be true to the character of the venue.

Alternative tandas, at least for me, are so much more difficult to construct well than traditionals. The great orchestras have pretty much done all the work for us djs. "Alternative," however, particularly as it is defined by the Cellspace people, is like a crapshoot. You can go somewhat safe and play tango-based music, like tango electrónico or Cáceres, but Cellspace expects at least some music that is completely non-tango related. This gives the dj a ton of freedom but in a way it's this very freedom that is problematic. Too many options.

Now, I am of the Napster generation (back when Napster was cool), which is to say I have a taste for a pretty broad spectrum of music, although I will admit I have fallen decidedly behind on what is popular nowadays and have been thusly clueless for years now. So chances are pretty good that any tanda I put together will be unfamiliar to the majority of dancers, and their reaction to what I play simply cannot be anticipated. Part of the problem is that while I am familiar with the music and I know how I would interpret it via tango-esque dancing--

Aside: Currently, I don't consider dancing tango movements to non-tango music as legitimately "tango," which is not to invalidate it as a form of expression nor to imply that it is somehow inferior, but merely to emphasize my belief that the music is the primary defining characteristic of tango, and the dance can be considered "tango" only as a physical counterpart to that specific music.

--those who have never heard the music before may not be able to discern the patterns and the tapestry which I found to be conducive to tango-esque movements, and thereby find themselves completely lost. I have certainly found myself in this predicament as a dj more than once. Also, oftentimes a piece of music can drastically change quality based on the system it is played on and the space it is played in, so something that sounds reasonably tango-able on headphones can sound completely antithetical in a dance hall.

As of right now I don't have many ideas. Luckily, I've found the Cellspace crowd to be exceptionally open-minded, and in worse case scenarios, very forgiving. Plus, I have faith that my co-dj will have an ample supply of non-traditionals to keep the folks happy.

29 mayo 2008

2008-05-27T03:17:00.000-03:00

A year ago at this time I was in BsAs, during a brief but refreshing stint with unemployment. I cashed out the meager pittance in my 401k, bought the cheapest ticket I could find and made my reservations for a month at a cozy family home in San Telmo. It wasn't my first visit but it was the first time I had gone on my own, a significantly different experience from the times I had gone with a group. I have no idea how a year has passed since then. When time passes by this quickly it becomes something almost terrifying. My memories are still so vivid, the people I spent time with so present to me. Some of the moments remaining on the periphery of my senses:

-The unusual cold of the winter, the air like a razor. This was the year when there was the snowfall in Cordoba, and a few weeks later in BsAs as well. I walked fast against the temperature, dodging the near-frozen dog mines in the black brick road among porteños cursing the weather, huddled and shivering and loudly bemoaning their shrunken testicles.

-Sitting in a café on Avenida de Mayo with S, my little sister in spirit, the two of us nursing recent broken hearts, swapping stories and encouraging one another in our endeavors.

-Looking out the window of an omnibus en route to Rosario, the darkening sky revealing the southern constellations to me for the first time outside the bright modernity of the metropolis. My good friend C putting me up at his house for the weekend on little notice, introducing me to the city he knew intimately. Near the river a stray dog, patchy, fur like tweed, sidling up to anyone who passed his way, his eyes alight with the hope of a home. He reminded me of that dog in those old Porky Pig cartoons, only less annoying and more pitiable.

-Sitting in an empty Il Gatto on Corrientes at 7:30 in the evening, Phil Collins sussudioing over the PA. Ordering a pizza only to be informed that they didn't have the dough prepared at that unusual dining hour.

-The subte at rush hour, late afternoon, getting swept up in the torrent of commuters and almost unwillingly vacuum packed into one of the cars. Sensing unfelt violations, sounds of things unzipping, then getting spit out at the next stop only to find my backpack pockets open, a Spanish/English Dictionary and a bottle of Advil missing. Later, back in my room, I notice a surgically precise incision along a jacket pocket, which gained the perpetrator nothing but me an anecdote.

Of course, there was tango. Milongas every night, classes every day, lessons that I still haven't processed, some that I have doubts I ever will. But that's all familiar stuff to everybody, right?

Miss that town. Much love to all my friends there, and all those I met who made me feel welcome and indulged my bad castellano.

22 mayo 2008

2008-05-23T00:34:00.000-03:00

New season of So You Think You Can Dance? I know, I hate myself. But I have to say, anything that brings dance into the American consciousness as a form of art and culture is a good thing. For a long time dance seemed to have kind of disappeared, but now it's everywhere. Dancing with the Stars, America's Best Dance Crew, et al. DWTS I could never really get into (matter of fact, when The Metronome changed to the Cheryl Burke Studio I had to ask who she was), for two reasons. First, from what I understand it's ballroom based and that's just not my thing. But more significantly, I just didn't really see the appeal of watching non-dancers dancing.

Disclaimer: Not to dis non-professionals/aficionados of dance, who I can--and do--enjoy watching when it is done with great feeling, spontaneity and honesty. The nature of this show, however, deals with choreographed dance, which I think is intended as a visual art and exists primarily for the outside viewer, thereby necessitating, among other things, a strong technique and familiarity with the form to be effective.

SYTYCD, in contrast, actually has some really talented dancers from different disciplines. That, however, doesn't mean they can do everything well. B-boys struggle with quick step. Ballerinas struggle with krumping. This, I suppose, is part of the fun of watching. I guess it's a kind of schadenfreude in watching someone so talented in one aspect have difficulty doing something else. Personally, I don't enjoy watching when someone is clearly having a hard time, because I don't like to see their personal discomfort nor the awkwardness of the presentation. But it is great when you can see a dancer grow as the show progresses.

(Side note: we see this in tango all the time. People coming from other dances who begin tango and have the hardest time making it work. There is just something so utterly different about this dance, so contradictory to the familiar, so much the opposite of how things are supposed to be done. Tango is really the black sheep of partner dancing. Yet such a dance luminary as Martha Graham considered it the most beautiful dance in the world. Perhaps, in part, because it made its own rules?)

Watching the auditions can be a painful process. It's great when you see the ones who are really good, but I'm not a big fan of the segments where they show the rejects. I'm neither interested in watching the dance--or "dance" as the case may be--nor of watching the judges cut the performers down. One thing, it is pretty illuminating to see how common it is that lesser dancers are completely unaware of their caliber of dance. These people who claim to have studied so hard, that they have been admired so much, that they have had so much success elsewhere. And when they get the 86, how the judges don't know anything, how they were being unfairly maligned, yadda yadda.

Ego is a funny thing. Amazing how blinding it can be, how ultimately confining and isolating. And yet, paradoxically, it must be present to advance in skill and expression.

Much as I hate to watch the rejections, in a way I suppose it's a really positive thing. For one thing, art has to have standards. Otherwise, anything can pass for art. While I appreciate the diplomacy and open-mindedness of such a perception, I think I prefer to categorize art as something special, something exemplary and inspiring. And as certain prospective contestants in the show can attest, it was the rejection they received earlier that helped them to focus their attention in a way that helped their dance grow and mature.

I suppose it can be fun and a bit cathartic to imagine a similar process for certain people in the tango community, that certain problematic dancers could be called out and have their issues bluntly spelled out to them. Upon reflection, I think this would ultimately go against one of my fundamental perceptions about tango which is that it is, and should be, unique from person to person and that as long as it is communicable it is valid. The only tango that I truly disapprove of is one that is disruptive and/or dangerous, which is far more common than it should be. (Nuit's recent post is one particularly extreme and shameful example of this.)

One thing I can say that I *hate* about the show, but that I also have a car wreck fascination with, is when they put together an "Argentine Tango." On the occasion I've seen this the choreographer has been a supposed expert on latin dances, which conveniently included tango. And of course it is the most clichéd, mannered, phony conception you could possibly imagine. I can't blame the dancers because they have to do what they are given, and chances are they don't know any better. I do have a beef with the choreographer, though, for passing himself off as an authority on something he apparently doesn't know shit about. Of course I am coming from a very biased position, but I believe that Argentine Tango (and it's a shame I have to use the modifier) is probably the most misunderstood dance in the world, and to see it presented so fraudulently on such a visible stage makes my skin squirm. But I guess if people see it and like it, it has value. I'm cool with that, I guess. And we cognoscenti know what the good stuff--the real stuff--is ;P.

17 mayo 2008

2008-05-17T03:24:00.000-03:00

I just picked up a book called "The Meaning of Tango" by Christine Denniston and I'm about seventy pages in. I like it so far, she seems to be earnest about what she's trying to impart and doesn't come off as someone trying to exploit the dance as a vehicle for self-aggrandizement. Plus, she knows what she's writing about. Although, to be honest, I haven't really read anything I didn't already know. And I could do without the obligatory how-to bits.

Side note: generally speaking, I think it's pointless to try to teach (or learn) to dance using the written word.

One of the things she mentions is how the learning process has changed from the period before the dance went underground in the mid-1950s, to the way it is learned now. Back then, she writes, men always learned the woman's role first, and practiced only that for a substantial amount of time before they were allowed to try the man's role. Reading this reminded me of how illuminating it is as a leader to practice the follower part. Now, switching roles is a topic of discussion that frequently seems to make the rounds on tango blogs (as evidenced, for example, by Modern Tanguera's recent post), and while everyone agrees that practicing the follower part helps the leader improve his lead, I suddenly realized a reason *why* it helps which I hadn't considered before. The obvious benefit is that the leader gains insight in how it feels to be led and can use this awareness to hone and clarify his communication to his partner, as well as making it more comfortable for her. Another benefit is the strict technical exercise that a leader gets from following that he might not get as a leader (constant walking backwards, for example, or the fact that followers tend to pivot a lot more than leaders, not to mention the advanced dissociative dynamics of movements such as boleos or even most ochos).

Now, before I mention my little epiphany, I want to talk about an issue that I realize I sometimes have when dancing socially. On the odd occasion dancing with someone--particularly with an advanced dancer--there will be an infinitesimal little glitch in communication where she will miss an intended lead and will immediately realize what had been intended and reflexively apologize, even though the dance continues unabated and from the outside it probably will have been completely unnoticeable. Of course, it never bothers me that the intention wasn't realized. What does bother me is that, somehow, I have communicated a disruption. So how can I smooth things out so that even when the follower doesn't go where I expected her to, she will never register anything but an inevitable possibility?

And I realized that another benefit of working on the woman's role is that it will, presumably, help me get more accustomed to following my follower. This is a concept that is common among more advanced leaders, which is to say that "leaders" don't really "lead" per se, but in fact always move only after the "follower" moves. So I think that, at least in the moments where the aforementioned disruptions occur, what communicates the disruption is that I am jumping the gun a teeny bit. I jump the gun because I am making an assumption and have acted on that assumption prematurely. It is much the same as the fault leaders place on followers who can't *wait*. The ability to wait is a virtue on both ends.

Some time ago, I wrote a personal observation in my collection of tango notes which fits with this topic, and it still holds up for me so I figured I'd share it:

Tango is a dance that should be perceived with a mindset strictly set in the present, in a Zen-like state of being in the moment. The past and the future are distractions that will interfere with the connection and limit possibility. With the "present" mindset, every step feels new, and the simplest elements remain fresh and unfold organically. And since every step is approached as something new, when an opportunity arises to explore an unfamiliar possibility there is neither hesitation nor bewilderment from unmet expectations. The "past" and "future" mindset both lead to preconception. One thinks of what has happened before, and expects it to come again. This is a poor but easy—and therefore, common—substitute for true connection. (The Japanese have a Zen term, "Mushin," which means "Mind of no mind." In martial arts, achieving the state of Mushin allows one to be ready for anything. The same applies in tango.)

15 mayo 2008

2008-05-15T04:49:00.000-03:00

At practice today A and I were having difficulty calibrating with one another. It was as if she had trouble reading my lead, or that I couldn't place her exactly where I wanted her. Our figures took on irregular shapes, with inconsistent distances between us and odd fluctuations in our axes that we seemed to be inflicting upon one another. Yet at the end of the practice we came away feeling good about the place we were in. So what gives?

It's easy to remember a time when the same experience would have left me frustrated and self-conscious, but I've been in the game long enough to recognize transitional phases for what they are. These are the times when the dance seems to get really messy and unmanageable but what is really happening is that old ideas are getting broken down and reconstructed to accommodate fresh possibilities. There is the old familiar comparison to the phoenix that is fitting, but before it can rise it must burn, and that's where I think we are. El Pollo Malevito on the tango parrilla. At this point it is always a welcome phenomenon for me because I have faith in what it portends. I see it as evidence that I still have potential to grow as a dancer, and that I am growing. I like it a lot better than that other familiar feeling, of being in a rut.

Trick is to be sure that this is truly what it means and not that you have or are accumulating poor habits. Not that I have a large readership, but I guess I'm concerned that there may be someone out there with a lot of fundamental dance issues who sees this post and thinks, "That's where I'm at, too! I'm just growing...constantly!" If you always struggle without any phase of comfort and security then you might question your technique. And if something's uncomfortable for you, chances are it's uncomfortable for your partner as well and if you're a considerate person you'd probably want to remedy that. Just a thought. Ahem.

14 mayo 2008

2008-05-14T05:02:00.001-03:00

Have been regularly attending David and Mariana's weekly advanced workshop which has been a lot of fun. One of the things I really like about them as teachers is that they propose a lot of modern concepts but always have a deep reverence for the traditional form and try to promote an approach that keeps it all in relation to one another. And also that they are careful to mention the appropriateness of certain possibilities depending on context, and to emphasize that their main objective is not to teach steps or elements but to broaden perspectives. Nevertheless, I'm sure that I'll see some of the people in the class trying out their big piernazos and whatnots on the crowded milonga floor. It's inevitable. I hope at least they try to be considerate of the space and their neighbors.

I was speaking with a friend of mine in the class and he was asking whether I would ever do any of the flashier elements in a milonga and I responded that it all depends. I'm not one to say never, but the likelihood is pretty slim. Even as I'm becoming more familiar with these beautiful and fun possibilities, at heart what I love most are the simplest things, and doing them well. That's my personal bias, and while I'm always open to change that's where I am at this moment. To me, it's kind of like Tae Kwon Do, where there are very few fundamental movements but the point is to hone them to perfection. Other people might be more drawn to, say, some wushu style with many different types of movements, which makes a much broader palette of expression. Truth be told, I like it all, and would love to be a master of everything. But when it comes to social dancing--which is the whole point, really--I am happy keeping it easy. An old tango cohort of mine put it in a way that I loved: to paraphrase, within a tanda you have about ten minutes with a beautiful woman in your arms. Why would you want to spend that ten minutes whipping her all over the place instead of holding her close to you?

10 mayo 2008

2008-05-09T23:13:00.000-03:00

As promised, my list of favorite musicians continues with these wizards of the 88 keys. Not to say I'm a foremost authority on the subject of tango history or music, and certainly my selections won't bring much to surprise. Nevertheless, here are my current favorite tango pianists:

Carlos Di Sarli - The one and only. His playing brought a richness to tango unmatched by any other pianist, with a tone so meaty and juicy--like a thick lomo with a bottle of malbec. I love the way he creates dramatic contrast on the extreme ends of the keyboard, and how his rolling, rumbling bass notes add such gravity to the music, as if he is rooting the dancers' feet deep into the earth with each step. If he was a classical pianist, he would be Rachmaninoff. Prime examples: La Cachila, Alma Mía, Germaine (either version).

Osmar Maderna - A very different pianist from Di Sarli, almost diametrically opposed in the approach, with the exception of their mutual perfectionism. Dubbed "The Chopin of tango," his exceptionally refined playing is most often heard in milongas in the recordings of the late 30's-early 40's with the Caló orchestra, whose signature style is one he was essential in honing (noticeably with the traditional Caló ending with the light piano chimes in the upper register). Later on, with his own orchestra he puts more emphasis on the piano, which highlights his incredible playing but makes music that is perhaps more appropriate to listen than to dance to, as the arrangements take on a broader romantic canvas and sometimes tends to submerge the underlying rhythm. If he was a classical pianist, he would be Michelangeli. Prime examples: El Vuelo del Moscardón, Lluvia de Estrellas, Sans Souci (with Caló).

Rodolfo Biagi - Spiky, startling, piquant. I recently spoke to a tango comrade who expressed a dislike because he felt that hearing Biagi was going to give him a heart attack. But this is, in a way, the quality of his that those who love him feel the way they (we) do. The peculiar way he emphasizes the "off" rhythm while maintaining the solid cadence makes his orchestra ideally suited for dancing, as beginners can easily move in time while more advanced dancers can challenge themselves by playing with the complexities of the music. (But probably not a good choice for the very beginning of a milonga--you need to be warmed up to tackle his energy). With D'Arienzo in the mid-30's his fingers found their footing, but it was with his own orchestra where he truly earns the title of "Manos brujas." If he was a classical pianist, he would be Gould. Prime examples: Lágrimas y Sonrisas, Picante, El Estribo.

Fulvio Salamanca - Another pianist of the D'Arienzo school, but I couldn't disqualify him for a little redundancy because he's just too damn good. Similarly bright in intonation but perhaps more virtuosic and powerful than Biagi, if less idiosyncratic. Nice octaves! I haven't specifically researched him much but some of the things he did with D'Arienzo have made my jaw drop. If he was a classical pianist, he would be Horowitz (or perhaps Cziffra). Prime examples: A Una Mujer, Barracas al Sud, Fuegos Artificiales.

Pablo Ziegler - Here I take a leap forward in time and style, to the jazzy riffs of this Piazzolla co-conspirator. Sure, he came relatively late to the maestro's circle and I'm sure his say must have been somewhat limited, but when he plays he sets those keys on fire, man. I can't compare him to a classical pianist because his playing seems so spontaneous (even if that's not really the case--I wouldn't know). Maybe Argerich? Prime examples: Fugata, Michelangelo '70 (with Piazzolla), Elegante canyenguito (with his quintet).

Okay, all for now. I might do a post later on bandoneonists but I really know very little about them, and from what I can tell they don't often tend to stand out as soloists, generally playing with other bandoneonists as an ensemble. Anyway, happy listening (and dancing).

7 mayo 2008

2008-05-07T22:20:00.000-03:00

Ah, Zivals. Such great service. I ordered a batch of cds there last Friday and they arrived on Tuesday. That's crazy fast from Argentina. Usually it takes exactly a week, which is fast enough. But four days, weekend included? Dang! Props also to DHL. Thanks guys.

In the spirit of my growing collection and also inspired by Alex's blog, I've decided to share some lists of current favorites. Alex proposed a Top 10 Golden Age tango list but I think that's kind of impossible. Instead, today is dedicated to the singers. Who are my favorites right now? I know I'm going to leave out some biggies, both on purpose and inadvertently, but in no particular order:

Carlos Gardel - No explanation needed. He is the king, always will be. Current favorites: Melodia de Arrabal, Canchero.

Angel Vargas - The golden tone of his voice, the expression, the confidence. No singer has done more for an orchestra than Vargas did for D'Agostino. Try listening to a D'Agostino without him and see if it grabs you in the same way. For me, at this moment, it just doesn't. Some current favorites: Como El Hornero, No Vendrá.

Raúl Berón - To me, he is the master of subtlety. He can sing very softly but never loses richness, and his dynamic range makes his strong passages that much more effective. His control can make other fine singers with the same orchestra seem relatively coarse and sloppy (compare his work with Demare alongside that of Horacio Quintana). Some current favorites: Tarareando (with Caló), Una Emoción (with Demare).

Julio Martel - I'm not a big fan of De Angelis and with the notable exception of his valses I tend not to dance when I hear his music come on. But I have to admit, he had a good ear for singers, and my favorite of his group is Martel. There is a kind of unabashed romanticism and earnestness about his voice that moves me. Check out his control with his vibrato and the way he rolls his r's. Some current favorites: Acordes Porteños, La Vida Me Engaño.

Alberto Podesta - I remember very clearly "discovering" Podesta one night at Salon Canning and Nido Gaucho began a tanda. I'm sure I had heard the song many times before but somehow it was as if I'd never really heard it at all until that moment. Such longing! The very next day I went out and bought the cd, and listening to it through I couldn't believe I had somehow missed out on his genius for so long. Until then, I had mostly thought of Di Sarli in terms of his instrumentals. I see him and Berón as musical brothers. It's interesting to compare their renditions of the same song, ie. Al Compás del Corazón. Some current favorites: Lloran Las Campanas (with Di Sarli), Paisaje (with Laurenz).

Ricardo Ruíz - A truly unique voice in tango--sweet, utterly refined, with a kind of eerie, almost androgynous quality. I find that here, in the SF Bay Area, he tends to get passed over on dj playlists in favor of his Fresedian brother Roberto Ray, but it was his voice and the way it complemented the "old movie soundtrack" orchestration that initially drew me to Fresedo. Some current favorites: Buscándote, Volveras.

Well, that does it for now. Next time: The pianists.

4 mayo 2008

2008-05-03T20:11:00.001-03:00

Have been feeling a bit out of sorts lately, a kind of mild occasional vertigo that happens for no discernible reason. Apparently, I'm not alone in this as other people I've talked to have mentioned the same thing. It is clear there is only one possible explanation.

The earth is wobbling on its axis.

Of course, the collective governments of the world along with the elite scientific community have been very hushed about this as not to create a global panic, but we dancers can feel it under our feet. When we do a giro and feel ourselves tilting, or when we try to hold steady during a parada/pasada and feel our planted leg undulating underneath us to keep us upright. It must be the tectonic plates far below the hardwood floors of the milongas shifting in their continuing currents away from Pangaea, haphazardly churning into disarray due to the unsteady spin of the planet, which is swaying and shuddering like a decelerating top.

Are we doomed?

Perhaps the earth just needs a little adjustment. First off, we need to remind her to keep her core solid but flexible and clearly dissociate the energy--feel the energy projecting upward through her spine and out the top of her head, and down from her lower lumbar through her legs and into the ground. Keep her chin and shoulders down, chest and neck up, ribs and pelvis tucked in. Have a little flexion in her legs for stability and agility, and spread her weight evenly across her feet or perhaps skewing a bit towards the front. And remind her to always take care of her own axis; she can't depend on the sun to always do it for her (maybe sometimes his lead is going to be bad and in those cases she doesn't want to sacrifice herself).

Then again, maybe there's just a bug going around, or the weather that's making us all wonky. Or that I've been drinking too much coffee and/or maté lately.

19 abr 2008

2008-04-19T21:51:00.000-03:00

Recently, my tango partner mentioned in passing how, when she is dancing at a milonga, one of the things she focuses on is the dance space, and it made me wonder if this is part of the responsibility that a follower should share or if it she should leave it to the leader's discretion.

My take is that, ideally, this should be solely a concern for the leader, in the sense that the leader dictates the path that the couple will follow but also regulates the energy of expression. And of course, there is the all important rule that the leader takes responsibility for safety, both of his partner and himself but also for that of the couples around them.

So then, as the leader evaluates all the myriad factors that will, moment to moment, inform his interpretation, the follower should have two primary areas of focus: the nuances of her partner's lead and her own axis. The leader, for his part, will not put anyone in jeopardy through bad decisions, ie. marking a strong boleo, media luna, or large circumference / high energy turn in the direction of another couple or perhaps a chair leg or table, aggressively bulldozing his partner toward a space in order to claim it ahead of another couple who is moving in that trajectory or using her body to tailgate another couple, etc. If the leader is conscientious about the space then there should be a consistent and comfortable flow to the dance.

My concern when the follower takes the responsibility for this space is that, assuming the leader is already being careful, there will be a kind of excess of caution that feeds on itself and negatively affects the flow. That is to say, on a dance floor that is packed or otherwise safety compromised, the leader already will take this into account and modify the couple's energy and dance space accordingly. If on top of this the follower also takes the incentive to regulate the energy and the space it will result in an excess throttling of energy and a kind of overprotectiveness that causes rigidity and loss of what limited freedom the couple has in the given circumstance.

Again, I am only speaking ideally, as there are never absolutes. But I feel that to dance with too many eyes focused on protection (especially here in the states) is to compromise to the extent of irrelevance. Shoulders and shoes will rub, couples will get cut off, there will be the occasional bump. All this is unavoidable, and to overly prioritize the attempt to completely eradicate this from the experience is to completely neuter expression, which is just as much your couples' right as any others' on the floor who may be more aggressive in exercising that right.

This is my take at the moment, but I would definitely like to hear what others think.

14 abr 2008

2008-04-14T22:17:00.000-03:00

Have not been in much of a tango mood lately. Don't know if it's because of the high volume I've been getting at work, the crazy ass weather in the Bay Area, taking care of my mom (she's better now) or just overexposure. For the past couple weeks I've been keeping it almost strictly in a practice mode with A. We've been attending the advanced class with David and Mariana on Wednesdays which has been really refreshing for us. I'm not one to take many classes and apparently people know this about me, as colleagues were expressing surprise at my attendance. D and M structure the lessons around an extended sequence which they demonstrate piece by piece and deconstruct along the way. The point is not to memorize the sequence but to understand how the elements interconnect, which will in turn hopefully give the dancers greater insight into making different connections as well as gaining proficiency and possibly devising new variants of the elements. It's fun and challenging to get outside of my comfort zone which admittedly is something I tend not to do, although in principle I know it is necessary to keep growing. And this class leans toward modern concepts (single axis, centrifugal force, contradictory leads, etc.) which I haven't really explored in depth, although for the most part I have previously studied the movements to some degree and can manage fairly decently--again, somewhat to the surprise of those who know my conservative dancing tendencies.

Aside from the workshops, A and I do our regularly scheduled practices on Thursdays and Sundays and beyond that I haven't gone out much, maybe one or two milongas per week. And on the occasion that I do go to a milonga I've been averaging maybe one tanda for the evening, sometimes none. That's fine. I think that by the time summer hits I'll probably get more energy and incentive to get more active again.

28 mar 2008

2008-03-28T19:12:00.000-03:00

Wednesday night @ Cellspace turned out to be a great evening, which was a blessing considering some of the difficulties that arose in the last minute. The evening before, my computer started having a glitch where it wouldn't send a signal through the audio output for some reason. I think it's shorting out somewhere and I'm going to have to take it to the shop.

Side note: Funny thing about these Macbooks, they always start acting all wonky immediately after the warranty expires. My previous Macbook had a complete meltdown of the motherboard about a month past the warranty which would have cost around 800 bucks to fix, which is why I bought the current one. Now I am a month past the current warranty and this happens. I know Macs have some true believers out there and I have always been a Mac user myself, but this is not only a drag but seems to show a pattern of unreliability...

Anyway, I ended up having to DJ through my iPod by syncing my playlists in the durations when my co-DJ Sabrina was on. She turned out to be the star of the night music-wise, drawing a bunch of people to our table to ask, "What was that last song?" I, on the other hand, feel like I was the solid backup player, kind of like the person who plays bass. You don't really notice them but they are the ones really laying down the foundation. And in retrospect I think that was the role I played by leaning heavily towards strong traditional tango tandas. I feel like we had a good mix and kept the energy moving really well. We had the seats pretty empty the whole night, and when we were done we had folks beaming at us and presenting us with high praise. It's a great feeling to know you are keeping the dancers happy. It's not a responsibility I take lightly.

***

Before the milonga I watched the classes--one beginner and one intermediate/advanced proceeding concurrently--and it occurred to me that there seemed to be a noticeable gap between them. That is, the beginner class seemed to cater to absolute newbies, while the intermediate/advanced class catered to people who should have pretty solid basic technique. But in the i/a class there wasn't really anybody who was at the level at which I think the instructors intended when they created their lesson plan. They began with a simple warm up where the leaders were to exercise their back ochos--not leading the ocho but performing it themselves. But when they commenced I couldn't see anyone who could do it properly. This isn't really all that surprising since in action it is pretty rare for leaders to do back ochos. But it is such a basic element of the dance that the technique should be present regardless. And this is where the gap in level seems to be. Many (not all) of the people taking the i/a class were clearly beyond what was happening in the beginner class and it is understandable that they would want to study something more challenging and unfamiliar to broaden their realm of possibility. Yet it takes time to really solidify even those primary concepts that are introduced during our initiation into tango.

I think this is an issue that I often see in classes here. Maybe it's because the classes tend to be too short in duration, but what seems to get neglected is some significant time to work solely on technical exercises. In many classes I see instructors allowing a brief warm up--usually consisting of a free dance for one song--and then immediately begin with the class topic. In Argentina I felt there was a lot more focus on technique, especially during the warm up, and what I have observed in other dances it is the same thing--particularly in classic dances, like ballet. Now, I don't have a beef with people who are casual dancers and aren't interested in investing the time and work into bringing their tango to a certain level. As a dance of the people I welcome those who are just looking to have a good time. These people are really the meat of the community. But for those who have higher aspirations it needs to be made clear that this is not a dance you can take for granted and think you can achieve success. Tango is d i f f i c u l t. Even for people who have danced their whole lives. And there are no shortcuts. Progress takes time and a lot of hard work, some of it tedious and frustrating and potentially painful physically, mentally, and emotionally. But this is what all the dancers we admire have gone through. To think you can get there without the same kind of struggle is basically to dis those who have worked so hard to get to where they are.

26 mar 2008

2008-03-26T18:33:00.000-03:00

Quick post: I'm scheduled to DJ at Cellspace tonight, and wanted to give a heads up regarding something I may play as an experiment. So if you hear a tanda beginning with "Vi Luz y Subí" by Libedinsky/Narcotango, be aware that it will be a mixed tanda and there will be NO SPACES between the songs.

21 mar 2008

2008-03-21T21:50:00.000-03:00

Tonight my friend Mariana is leading a workshop for women's technique. In disclosing the focus of the workshop she has made an emphatic statement that she will not teach adornments, and in the promotional materials she says, "You don't need adornments to be pretty, you are pretty." So why does she seem to have such a strong aversion to adornments?

We had a talk a while back about this. I once asked her which women dancers she admired. One of the names she mentioned was Lucia Mazer, and her reasoning for this was because Lucia never wastes energy with extraneous movements. That was an attitude that Mariana strongly agrees with. We got on the subject of adornments and embellishments and she seemed to feel that they take away from the unity of the couple. This was a view that was heightened the more she practiced the leaders' role and would find that the followers' embellishments tended to interfere with her intentions. Beyond that, she apparently thought they spoiled the aesthetic of the dance.

Now, Mariana, if you don't know her, is an exceptional dancer. She's one of the few followers I've met who truly seems to enjoy and excel at *every* approach that a leader provides her, from the absolute beginner to the elite and from the most strictly traditional to the wildly experimental. She seems to have an uncanny knack to adapt instantaneously to whoever she dances with. I have always loved watching her dance but until we had this discussion I never even noticed that she doesn't use adornments. And yet she is absolutely compelling. Why?

Regarding adornments, the current trend for followers seems to be the more, the better. It's as if followers are looking forward to and/or paying a large amount of attention to every space between the leaders' marks for the opportunity to make a display. Aside from aesthetic, it seems to be an exhibition of skill for women to decorate their transitions. In my opinion, perhaps the single biggest influence to this current aesthetic is the dancing of Geraldin Rojas de Paludi, particularly during her time with Javier Rodriguez. Now, I'm sure they are no strangers to anybody who may be reading this and that my singling them out is fairly obvious. But I wonder if many followers are missing something about her dancing, something more vital and bewitching about her dance than her obvious skill with ornamentation. And it is something that she and Mariana, despite their different approaches to the dance, both have in common. That is their complete investment--emotional and physical--in the leader. It's not about technique, it's all about attitude.

"A woman, totally connected with her man," Mariana said, "what could be more beautiful?"

As a leader, I am fairly neutral when it comes to adornments. I utilize them in my dance but don't make them an emphasis, and as far as leading a woman who uses them it generally doesn't bother me. I will say that despite the claims of some, who say that you can make them essentially invisible as far as the partner is concerned, they always affect the mechanism of the dance. Even when the movement is masked by a very skilled dancer, there is always something transmitted even if it's only subconsciously. And when I dance with someone who I know uses a lot of them I tend to limit my dance in order to indulge their interpretation, but also to keep from tripping them over their own feet. I still enjoy these dances, but in a sense I feel that they aren't really all my dances. Like in a way I was just providing a vehicle for the follower to make her statements. And as a leader, that's not the most satisfying feeling. Not to say there shouldn't be give and take, a sharing of expression. But dancing with a follower who places excessive emphasis on adornments is kind of like having a conversation with someone who won't shut up and give you a chance to interject, or like someone who you feel isn't really listening to what you say but is just waiting for the next opportunity to get her two cents in.

17 mar 2008

2008-03-17T22:29:00.000-03:00

Well, hot on the heels of yesterday's post, I got a heads up to this article in the NY Times about foreigners flocking to BsAs and setting up shop, which I find a bit troubling. I knew this was coming but watching it in progress kind of makes me want to cringe. Being a foreigner myself I suppose I don't really have any say as to what is right for BsAs, and in truth I am a part of that very same influx that is bringing an outside influence to the city just by virtue of being a tourist. Still, it would break my heart if the city's cultural identity was changed by a bunch of spoiled, non-native, exploitative hipsters with pretensions to being "artists."

I can't help but feel it is a remarkable coincidence--or maybe just really good timing--that this very subject was touched upon by the cartoon King of the Hill recently, where one of Hank's Mexican friends gets dismayed when his neighborhood is overrun by hipsters drawn to its ethnic culture, who inevitably begin to subvert that culture to meet their whims (bad diy music, salmon in the fish tacos) and as a side result cause housing prices to skyrocket, making it unaffordable for the longtime residents.

I guess historically speaking, this is not exactly new. We all know that BsAs was always a city made up of foreigners. I guess what I feel may be different this time is that these foreigners are coming with the power of foreign currency, and to me it seems that by their very nature they won't stick around forever. As soon as BsAs becomes passé they will head on to the next fashionable locale. My concern is with what they will leave behind. I have already witnessed how pricing for tourists has hurt the locals with the steadily rising costs of food and housing. But how it would suck if the cultural change became so prevalent that BsAs transformed into a caricature of itself, reflected in the kaleidoscopic lenses of myriad misguided yet influential dealmakers.

16 mar 2008

2008-03-16T22:03:00.000-03:00

Late Shift last night. Was pleasantly surprised to find that a bunch of my tango colleagues had come together to play a few songs for us. It's great to see that so many of my friends have talents beyond the dance. I'm so impressed with the people I know and meet in tango. There is something about the dance and the culture that seems to attract people who are highly intelligent, well-educated, and unusually creative and artistically inclined. I think I mentioned in a previous post how I noted that so many dancers have degrees and/or jobs in demanding fields (engineering, law, medicine, etc.) Now I'm seeing that plenty of them have also devoted a lot of energy in the humanities as well. I find it pretty humbling.

The performances were good; a little rough around the edges, perhaps a bit cautious, and there were some sound problems (notably with the keyboard) but overall with a good balance and togetherness and a solid rhythmic structure for dancing. On a few of the tunes they had the guest vocalist Nico from Córdoba (who also was a part of the Trio Garufa celebration last week) who is a *fantastic* singer but will be going back home shortly :(

The venue was a lot livelier than last week and I managed to get a few very nice dances in, although not enough for me to get completely warmed up. Felt stiff and my posture was a bit off, just slightly too forward with my legs than I'd like, but it wasn't too much of a hindrance. Missed dancing with a few people I would have like to have shared a tanda with, I suppose that's one of the risks of showing up later (I arrived a little before 1). But also, for various reasons I just have an aversion to dancing to live music, and since a significant portion of the evening was devoted to that it meant a lot of time away from the floor for me.

***

Going along with the subject of highly educated and well-trained people in tango, I am once again struck by the cultural differences in tango regarding Argentina and the rest of the world. Not to say that only uneducated people dance in Argentina, or that only white collar folks dance outside of it. But I feel that for those of us who are from the US, or Europe, or other "First World" nations who come to tango, it is really a privilege. First off, tango is not cheap. Lessons, milongas, shoes, music, the cost of travel--these things cost money. But perhaps more telling, we come to tango because we have gained access to it from one way or another, generally from an avenue afforded to a particular subset of cognoscenti. I can't speak for other countries, but here in the states there is virtually no value or emphasis given to any culture beyond pop culture, and especially regarding foreign culture. Only those who have been given a window to other cultures and have had a means and encouragement to nurture that interest develop a taste for it at all. And for anyone who has been fortunate enough to live in this kind of environment, it usually means they have disposable income and time. People who have been given the standard public school education, who are struggling to make ends meet, who work menial jobs--possibly several--with no spare time, who have never traveled or had much ambition or encouragement to travel, to try new things... these are generally not people you would find in tango here, or even who would know what it is. (El Pulpo once told me of a guy he met at a bar in the Midwest who, upon hearing what he did for a living, replied, "Tango? What's that?")

In contrast, for Argentines tango is such a big part of the national identity that it's not something that needs to be sought out. Everybody knows about it. And as such, almost anybody can pursue it. Also, from what I'm told, in Argentina there is a lot of charity in the community for the locals. Some places have different covers for locals and tourists, and I've heard at least one organizer who said he would routinely allow about half of the people who showed up at his milonga free entrance because they couldn't pay that week.

I had one experience that I feel really opened my eyes to this dichotomy. It was my second trip to BsAs which was with a relatively large tour group, somewhere in the number of 30 to 40 people. Many, if not most, of these people were tango newbies, folks who had been dancing for a year or less. One of the first items on the itinerary was to go shoe shopping. We inundated Flabella's and raided their inventory. They brought out their flashiest designs and we gobbled them up. It was almost like we were competing with one another as to who could buy the most and the fanciest pairs. Later on, we went to a milonga. It was then that I noticed that we were almost the only ones wearing new shoes. The locals had shoes that were well worn and beaten, oftentimes not even shoes specifically designed for tango. Yet they were the ones who were dancing with elegance, patience and emotion, following la ronda and respecting the floor, while some among our group stood out with their awkwardness, their ignorance of etiquette and general cluelessness. I really felt ashamed then, felt bad about flaunting these fancy shoes and having bought several pairs when the locals couldn't even afford one pair despite having obviously been a part of tango for a long time. I remember thinking, shoes mean nothing--they don't make you a better dancer or make you a tanguero just because they are on your feet.

And who was a part of that tour? Doctors, lawyers... Anybody who flipped burgers or mopped floors? Of course not. (Although to be honest, I'm probably not that far removed from that).

13 mar 2008

2008-03-13T19:29:00.000-02:00

Forever Tango was one of the reasons I started taking regular classes. I remember that even as I was sitting in the audience watching the show I was thinking, these are the women I want to dance with, and this is the way I want to dance with them. Before that I had no couples dance experience whatsoever, with the exception of some very rare occasions engaging in the awkward social dances of high school (many of them MC Hammer-based--I know, I'm dating myself). Besides that, I had some b-boy experience when I was a kid but that is a completely different animal. Anyway, since that time when I was so profoundly affected by FT I have been curious as to how I would react to it now that I have studied tango for a while. I knew it wouldn't be the same, but would I still find something to inspire me?

Last night, I watched the broadcast on public television... and I was bored. I found myself paying more attention to the food I was eating than on the performances. Everything seemed stale, overwrought and mannered yet strangely apathetic. This is not to dis the skill of the performers. It was apparent they had strong technique and had worked hard to get to the level they were at. I have read that the audition process is extremely competitive so it's clear that these dancers beat a lot of others to be on that stage. I think I would be more curious to see how these dancers perform outside of the context of this show, as spotlight performers at a milonga or something where they didn't have to meet outside demands. Or, how they dance socially (if they do at all--some performers don't).

Granted, to see something on television is a lot different from seeing it live. I think that cameramen and editors often miss the point when filming tango. As a walking dance I think it's most effective to keep some distance from the performers and keep the camera fairly steady instead of following them around everywhere, to get a better sense of the way they are moving around the floor. Also, there is so much going on in the entire body with counter movements and the like that something is lost when focusing only on one part.

Anyway, as far as watching tango shows I feel that I've lost something that I can never recover. It's not that I can no longer feel exhilarated watching a performance. But the mystery, the exoticism, the rejuvenation of being in the presence of something I have never experienced, all this is gone. Watching these performances now, I can break them down into their component parts: parallel walk, cross system walk, giros with sacadas, gancho, barrida, etc... It reminds me of how a classmate in the writing program at SF State mentioned that after taking all these courses on lit theory and creative technique he could no longer read a story without being aware of all the mechanisms in place: setting, character development, foreshadowing, objective correlative... I remember watching these dancers and not having a clue as to what was going on with their bodies, their legs weaving in and out as I would shake my head in disbelief, astounded by the complexity of it all.

Still, all is not lost. I still scratch my head watching folks like Gustavo and Giselle doing their thang, and it's not uncommon that I cry "Eso!" when I see something surprising and delightful on the floor. This dance never loses its capacity for the unexpected, and that's one of the great joys of it. As for FT, well, I'll always appreciate how it seduced me into this world.

Side note: most of the performers were unknown to me but it was good to see Marcela Duran again. Her partner in the show was fine, but no substitute for the great Gavito. I seem to recall seeing Gavito and Duran when I saw the show live. I remember at the time not being that impressed by them even though I knew they were pretty much the headliners of the show. I was more into the athleticism and extroversion of the other young couples on the stage. Shows how little I knew. Acrobatics are fine, but no one--and I mean no one--could convey the kind of dramatic tension in moments of stillness that Gavito could. I never met the guy, but somehow I still feel his absence.

9 mar 2008

2008-03-09T21:57:00.000-02:00

Call it tango karma. Last night, The Late Shift. Arrived around 1 AM. The scene was unusually light, maybe 30-40 people, tops, and leader-heavy. Got there with an itch to dance but ended up sitting the whole night. I think perhaps my reputation as a reluctant dancer is biting me in the ass. Also I could be misreading a lot of signs. Correct me if I'm wrong, but when a woman says she's "tired" I always took that to mean that she didn't want to dance right then, at least not with me. Or when I overhear someone turn down a dance invitation from someone else to say she is going to sit for a while, that means she's going to sit for a while, instead of accepting a dance the very next song. In both cases I never press the issue but that almost always ends up with me missing out. Or does it mean I end up not being the one burdening a woman with a charity dance? Whatever it is, the one thing it does mean is that I don't dance. El planchador.

Ah well. If that's one of the unfortunate consequences of my innate tendency to be finicky, so be it. I have tried it the other way--looking to dance when I'm not really moved to, with dancers I don't know or have connection issues with, to music that doesn't speak to me in the moment. Those encounters always left me with a particularly unpleasant resentment.

Maybe not exactly along the same lines, but lately I've also been struck by hearing things along the lines of, "I would like to dance with you, but only when I get better," or when I get a shocked expression when I invite someone. Bottom line, there's really nothing special about my dance, and especially when I'm dancing with someone who I'm still adjusting to (which is almost everybody) my dance is really basic. Think slow dancing at the prom basic. In fact, the only one I can really cut loose with is my regular practice partner A, and even then only under particular circumstances. So generally, I don't think that if anybody is missing out on a dance with me they're missing out on anything that they couldn't easily find elsewhere. But also the implication is that I'm considered something of a doyen in the community, which I certainly don't feel. Granted, I've been involved for longer than a lot of folks (c. 2000) but my level of involvement considering that time has been relatively light. I'm definitely not in the same league as folks like Nora, Homer & Cristina, Julian Miller, Felipe & Rosa, Rina, Marcelo & Romina... the list can go on and on. In Bay Area Tango High School, I'm probably a junior. But still, that shouldn't intimidate the freshmen and sophomores.

8 mar 2008

2008-03-09T00:40:00.000-02:00

Trio Garufa cd release party last night at Ashkenaz. I arrived at about half past ten, surprised to find that the live music had started so soon after the dance lesson. The venue was packed to the hilt, bringing together a lot of the disparate factions of the Bay Area tango community in one place. It seems we all knew this was to be one of the big celebrations of the year for us, a coming together to support what is perhaps the one musical group who truly represents the local tango scene at the present time (although there are some burgeoning movements from other musicians in the area, which is a very welcome and encouraging phenomenon).

The fellas were *on* this evening, playing together much tighter than even the last time I saw them at El Valenciano a few short months ago. They--being talented dancers as well as musicians--proudly uphold the philosophy of playing with the dancers in mind. And the dancers responded, although perhaps a little too enthusiastically in some cases. It was one of those nights where an invitation to dance was tantamount to making an implicit agreement to be bumped, jostled, kicked, elbowed and stepped on. There was simply no avoiding it. In the first tanda I danced I got all of these, including a stiletto inside my shoe (distracting, to be sure, but at least it was from a friend who I knew was struggling along with everybody else). Yes, the floor was crowded, but this in itself didn't account for the difficulty of navigating it. Unfortunately, although not unexpectedly, there were enough hotshots to make things tough for everybody. And it doesn't take many, perhaps even as few as two couples can create significant disruption in la ronda. Now, I have to say that there are some who can cause problems but who I absolutely accept on the floor. In particular, I am thinking of beginners and inexperienced dancers who are still learning to navigate. Although some of these people can have an effect on the energy I find it hard to fault them as they are still getting accustomed to it and there is no way around it but to do it, and I encourage them to get out there provided they have at least a rudimentary understanding of dance etiquette. The ones I tend to frown upon are those who apparently have some experience with the dance, whose technique displays some familiarity and comfort but who choose to dance without regard to anybody around them. The ones who move in whatever direction suits them, who throw high boleos, kicks, lapices and lifts (yes, lifts) on a high traffic floor. These people apparently fail to realize that in a milonga you are not just dancing with your partner but with everybody else in the milonga. This is part of the beauty of tango as a social dance, unlike something like salsa where you basically claim your spot and dance within that set space. Those who approach tango with that latter intention would be better off in another dance, or at least in limiting themselves to performance and staying away from social dance floors. Because I can assure them, the only reason anybody is paying attention to them at all is to avoid them and regard them with disdain and ridicule.

As long as I'm on the topic of floorcraft I might as well mention another thing that really bugs me, and that is the all too common occurrence of people who cut you off in order to take a space that you were creating for yourself. That is to say, as a leader, one of the ways to create dance space is simply to wait while the couple ahead of you proceeds, thus creating an opening where you can at least play a little. But more often than not, what ends up happening is the dancers behind me will cut around me to get to that space who owes its very existence to my patience. This is not floorcraft. This ultimately creates more problems because now that everybody knows that most other people are predatory in this manner they tend to be more in a rush when they dance, and also they become tailgaters which is another thing I hate.

Maybe I'm being a bit too idealistic when it comes to what a milonga *should* be like. I find that a lot of the most experienced dancers, though they understand the value of being a part of a unified whole, also know how to read a floor that will not cooperate and thus approach it with a very dominating attitude, creating a path through sheer strength of intention and clarity of direction. The difference between them and the hotshots is that they are always with la ronda and dance within a very compact cylinder and with their feet always well grounded. This is an attitude I have yet to develop. I personally prefer to sit out when I see a violent floor. Which means, I sit out a lot.

Anyway, enough with the griping. I had a good time last night, seeing a lot of friends and listening to some great music. They even managed to squeeze a quick chacarera into the mix which was messy but refreshing. My zapateos were a disaster but you know, you use it or lose it and I lost it. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see maestro Pampa Cortes, a great folk dancer, doing his thang. I'm not even sure if he actually participated. I asked him later if he did and he said, "A little." Not sure what that means. He mentioned something about being very tired after doing several performances a day. I can understand that.

Along with the Trio, Shorey had dj duties which was a particularly compromising position because her sets were short and sporadic, and also she had to work around both the Trio's repertoire and their energy. She handled it admirably, and I have to give special kudos for her starting a set with Fresedo (why is he so dissed in the Bay Area?) Also, the local all-woman troupe Tango Con *Fusion put on a fun little show.

So tonight, perhaps the Late Shift. I'll have to see how I feel around midnight.

7 mar 2008

2008-03-07T19:58:00.000-02:00

Time off can be a very good thing. I was getting to that point where tango was feeling like an obligation, the "I told x that I'd be at The Beat tonight but if I had my druthers..." So not much dancing lately. Last Saturday I went to The Late Shift a few hours after a leg workout. Bad idea. Immediately into my first and only tanda of the evening I felt myself collapsing into simple side steps. Afterward, I decided it was a night for watching and listening. It felt like a light night attendance-wise but the energy was good and the general level of dance was high.

Since then I have not gone out to dance socially, although last night was the weekly practice with A. It was one of those nights where we didn't focus so much on form as with exploration. Many things I had worked on and forgotten through my tango history suddenly reappeared and they had a kind of alien familiarity. I was happy to welcome them back into the fold and will try not to neglect them so much in the future.

Skip back to Sunday, Shorey's music lecture and workshop at the Finnish Hall. She talked about the evolution of orchestras, mostly focusing on Di Sarli and D'Arienzo and how they changed between the 20's to about the 50's. Some fascinating information, and things I had only a vague knowledge about (like the cause of Di Sarli's eye problems, apparently from a gun accident when he was young). Anybody who has an interest in delving deeper into the music (and that should be EVERYBODY) would do well to check out these lectures. I think they will be a monthly thing.

Tonight, Trio Garufa at Ashkenaz. Should be a blast. Also, my good friends Negracha and Diego are back in town. They are elegant, classic dancers and really friendly people. If you're interested in seeing/learning a very pure form of tango check them out.

24 feb 2008

2008-02-24T22:47:00.000-02:00

Sunday afternoon, post all-nighter at the Beat. These nights always take a lot out of me but last night was particularly draining for some reason. And not because I danced a lot, or because I worked a lot, neither of which I did. Not sure exactly what it was, except to say that sociability isn't a natural state for me and perhaps I've been putting myself in these situations a bit too heavily lately. I recall a line from 32 Short Films about Glenn Gould where Glenn talks about a certain ratio where for every x amount of time spent in the company of others there is a corresponding y amount of time that is necessary away from people. I think this is very true, and that this ratio is different from person to person. For me I think the y is particularly high. This is not to say I don't value the time I spend with these people who I have come to regard as good friends and compatriots following the common compulsion of tango. But there are times when the feeling of community and camaraderie, warm and inviting as it is, can start to make me feel hollowed out and empty for some reason. So today, though it is usually a practice day, I decided to refrain to kind of gather my energies.

Considering the all-nighter, though I heard comments from some who seemed to think the attendance was light I felt we had a pretty good crowd and good energy. It was great to see friends who I hadn't seen in a while because they were away in Oregon or other places, and some faces who were new to me but who others seemed familiar with, some very nice dancers from other communities who were passing through. The few dances I had were pretty rocky and rote (on my end), just one of those nights. Also--though Rina is a fine and experienced dj--I just couldn't really get into the music for some reason. Something about the flow that I couldn't tap any energy from. Maybe part of it was because the tandas I liked always seemed to play when I was doing door duty. I think there was just a lot of stuff that I am not terribly familiar with and I just need to collect more and listen more. There are still plenty of orchestras and plenty of music I need to mine for the distinct voices and modes of expression. For example, Tanturi is an orchestra that I haven't had much opportunity to explore in depth and am presently looking to study, as I have yet to find a signature in his music that moves me.

Anyway, as the sun sinks on this gray Sunday I ponder how I will spend my evening. Don't want to stay home, don't much want to go out, either.

16 feb 2008

2008-02-16T23:29:00.000-02:00

It occurs to me that I often get scheduled to play music at Cellspace whenever there is a big festival somewhere out of town. In that sense, I've often had the occasion to dj in the absence of a lot of friends. I guess I can be a bit dubious about the intentions, but I prefer to think of it as a kind of trust that I'll be able to hold the fort while the bosses are away.

As to be expected, Cellspace was noticeably affected by Valentango. There was a relatively light crowd, heavy on the "casual" tangueros and newer faces. Nevertheless, Leslie (my co-dj) and I kept a good energy and a good flow going and had most of the people dancing and the chairs empty the whole night. Leslie tends to be a more adventurous dj than I am so it was good to have her balance out my conservative playlists. All in all a successful evening. It's one of those times I felt we really kept the spirit of Cellspace without veering too heavily on the "alternative" side of things, nor making overly jarring transitions between tandas and/or djs. A shame that many of the regulars weren't around to appreciate it.

One thing about Cellspace, from a dj perspective, is that it is difficult to shape the sound of the music. There's something about the acoustics of the venue that colors the sound in a way that I don't like. Oddly, it seems to only occur later in the evening. Before anybody arrived Leslie and I were doing sound checks and were kind of amazed at how good the speakers were sounding. But during the milonga there was a steady decline, and with certain orchestras the music had what Leslie aptly described as an "underwater" quality. I don't know if that's a result of the presence of the crowd or of a kind of speaker fatigue. It's pretty frustrating because a lot of beautiful nuances get lost in the muddle. Maybe I can ameliorate some of this by using some kind of music software. Right now I only use iTunes, which apparently some folks really detest. I guess I should look into other options, but I don't really know what else is available for Macs.

Thursday night was red night at La Pista. I think I went a little overboard--red dress shirt, *loud* red pants (that I never wear because they are too bright and a little too long, plus they don't have pockets), red and black suede Flabella's on my feet (with a relatively tall heel for a guy's shoe--maybe an inch or two). I even wore a red bandanna, which Glenn suggested I remove on the way back to the car, "in this neighborhood--just in case." Only danced one tanda because I wasn't too comfortable in my chosen wardrobe and also am having some recurring foot problems. Plus I had arrived fairly late, too late to see the performances by Gato y Andrea and Judy and Jon. Spent most of the time lounging on the futon and talking with friends about shoes, salsa (which Vijay played as a quick break from tango), and the importance as a dancer of having a genuine feel for the music, which is one of the reasons why I have yet to study salsa dancing despite a long-standing intention.

I took Friday off and will likely take tonight off as well, considering that so many friends are out of town and that there will supposedly be a lot of work on the bridge this weekend. I'll make up for it tomorrow with Julian's práctica in the afternoon and then La Taza in the evening.

12 feb 2008

2008-02-12T19:14:00.000-02:00

The end of last week brought some good tango moments. Practice with A on Thursday, worked on a simple movement I stole from Gustavo and Giselle, among other things. Afterwards, went to the La Pista milonga, currently between names. Apparently, Rina isn't satisfied with the "80/20" moniker, especially since the "20" hardly ever makes an appearance. It's getting to be one of my go to places, even though it's on an inconvenient night and I have to cross the bridge. You can usually find at least a few of the Bay Area's best and brightest making an appearance, so even if you dance as infrequently as I do you can still enjoy watching. This week there was a guest appearance from Gustavo Benzecry Sabá and María Olivera, two very nice dancers and instructors from BsAs. They are self-described Salón style tangueros and as such seem to emphasize a more contained energy. I was most impressed by the tiny movements that each of them peppered their performance with. Watching them adds weight to my theory that dancers from BsAs tend to have more freedom and individuality in their approach. I get more of a sense of play and of personal expression, rather than a dominant focus on doing something "correctly" or of conforming to an established style.

Friday I went to Lafayette to visit my good friends and mentors Marcelo Solís and Romina Hahn and got to see Gustavo and María again. I sat out most of the night chatting with friends but had to put my shoes on when Fresedo popped up for the last tanda (a terribly underplayed orchestra in the Bay Area, in my opinion). I was lucky enough to catch María and had a wonderful set, despite the fact that I wasn't warmed up at all. At the end of the evening I bought a copy of Gustavo's book on Tango as metaphor. So far I've skimmed through it and it's an insightful read, although I differ in opinion on some things, mostly technical.

Saturday night was The Late Shift. Again met up with Marcelo, Romina, Gustavo and María, as well as my practice partner A in one of her rare milonga appearances. Seemed a little lighter in attendance than usual but still a good crowd and a good energy. Gustavo and María put on another wonderful performance and David kept the musical flow running smoothly (with the possible exception of an Electrocutango tanda, but that's personal bias--other people seemed to dig it). Got some very nice dances in, the best I've had in a long time. Nice to get on the floor with dancers you know--and who know you--pretty well.

Sunday, Café Cocomo. Didn't feel much like dancing but I had mentioned to a few people I'd try to make it. Spent the whole time as a wallflower, hanging out with friends and chatting. Didn't even bother to change my shoes, then ended up dancing La Cumparsita in my rubber soled oxfords with a friend who didn't want to leave without getting on the floor at all. Midway through the milonga there was another performance by Gustavo and María. Two songs, the second a milonga, the first fairly tricky--Pugliese, Seguime si podés ("Follow me, if you can"). Their interpretation involved a lot of long pauses, which was perfectly apt. I'm getting more comfortable with stillness but still finding Pugliese elusive. Shortly before their performance María was the unlucky victim of another's heel, which despite the ample room somehow found its way directly onto her ankle and scraping a line precisely bisecting her foot. Absolutely inexcusable, but sadly not uncommon.

Since the weekend have been trying to counterbalance all the tango with other things, but on Wednesday will be at Cellspace to share dj duties, then on Thursday plan to be at the Red night at La Pista. Will dig through my paltry wardrobe for something appropriate.

3 feb 2008

2008-02-03T22:07:00.000-02:00

Late Shift last night. Had the will to go but apparently not the spirit. Made it a point to get out on the floor to hang out with people I like but ended up dancing like a zombie. Couldn't connect with my partners and didn't recognize a lot of the music which I usually know, and subsequently couldn't connect with it either. Also felt unsteady on my feet and tended to tip over on turns. Overall a lack of focus and energy. When I dance like this I feel I'm cheating my partners. Been so tired lately. Hadn't danced since Monday so I guess I felt duty bound. I know that's not the best way to go about it but I fall in to that trap now and then. I suppose I'm so tied in to the idea of approaching the "art" of tango with a sense of discipline that I lose the spirit of freedom that I should have. Don't know if that means I should go out more, or less. Or if I should take it more seriously, or less. At the end of the milonga I spoke with some friends about it and we all just kind of shrugged and chalked it up to being one of those nights we all know so well.

30 ene 2008

2008-01-30T20:22:00.000-02:00

Still coasting on the lull in my tango energy. As such, there’s not much to say that’s tango related. It hasn’t been a total void, as I have remained active although to a lesser degree. Call it the depressive phase of the bipolar tango chemical stew.

Came late to The Beat on Monday after an overextended, after-work nap. Got a few dances, they were generally good initially but seemed to stagnate the longer they went on, mostly due to my lack of imagination, inspiration and/or trust in myself with dancers I haven’t worked with extensively. On the instances when Homer played some alt music I was completely lost. Later in the evening he apologized for throwing me off and I told him I just don’t know how to approach that kind of music. He offered instruction the next time we meet in a practice situation. Not to dismiss anything he has to offer but I don’t know how much my difficulties can be rectified by outside teaching. Certainly, part of my issue is due to a lack of appropriate dance vocabulary, particularly with music that has a languid tempo. But I think the bigger issue is that the music itself doesn’t really speak to me on tango terms. Compounding the problem is the fact that I’m not familiar with the music to begin with, which is a situation that would make even tango music challenging for me to dance to. Homer seemingly has no such difficulties regarding interpretation. He is what I would call a master of “the moment,” which is to say he’s incredibly adept at improvising movement as a spontaneous response to the opportunities that appear from his partners and from the music. His style is very much one of suggestion and dialogue. I would say that my synapses don’t fire in the same way. If Homer’s dance is like jazz, mine is more like classical—practiced, preconceived, emphasis on precision and unity of conception. When the unexpected occurs I often have some trouble readjusting. Usually that doesn’t result in a major break, but to my partner it will be noticeable that I had intended something different. Need to work on making these moments less disruptive.

Other tango events since my last post, in brief, include Cellspace (freezing cold, lots of traditional music on Ney's end), practice with A (productive and fun, as always), the 80/20 milonga (good energy, a fun demo with Colette and Richard which included a brief moonwalk), and the All-nighter at The Beat (lots of out-of-towners). Yeah, this is me on a tango slow period. Had plans to go out on Friday as well but I got into bed after work with the intention of taking a brief nap and didn't get up until about fifteen hours later. Guess my body was telling me something. Should have guessed since I had been struggling to keep my eyes open on the drive home from work the whole week previous. Never a good thing.

20 ene 2008

2008-01-21T20:03:00.001-02:00

I have come to the conclusion that jeans are not ideal for dancing, at least for me. Whenever I wear them I get sloppy. I don’t know exactly why that is, except maybe that denim is generally denser and more coarse than other materials. I find myself avoiding a tight collect position in order to minimize friction. Plus, I prefer loose jeans, which compounds the issue. Maybe tighter jeans would work better, I don’t know. And maybe my jeans are just a tad too long. At The Late Shift last night I was stepping on them here and there. Then again, that just might be bad technique, not being grounded enough and all that. Sometimes I would catch myself in the mirror lifting my feet off the ground in a way that appeared excessive, and it’s a pretty unconscious thing. Better work on that.

Speaking of The Late Shift, it’s only been going on for three weeks now and already it seems to be one of the most popular milongas in town. Certainly, it’s become one of my favorites. The floor is good, the sound system is good, there is ample space and the set up is comfortable. Dynamically speaking, there is a good flow to la ronda, the level of dancing is decent (at least late at night–post 12:30–which is when I tend to go) and David is an excellent dj. When I hear his selections both inter- and intra-tanda they just makes a lot of sense to me. I think this milonga will definitely become a Bay Area staple, but hopefully not at the expense of others. It’s set up to have minimum impact on places like aMuse by running later and offering discounted entry fees after aMuse closes, but I think it’s inevitably going to make a ripple at least. It will be interesting to see how next week’s All-Nighter at The Beat (personal fave) is affected.

I had intended to get there around 12:30 to take advantage of the discount but I woke up late from a nap and lay in bed for a while deciding whether I still wanted to go. By the time I got my ass up, showered, and made the drive it was close to 2, but there was still a good number of people and fresh energy in the room. I danced 4 tandas which for me is relatively copious, especially within an hour and a half. All a pleasure although as I mentioned I felt a little sloppy (damn jeans) and also not really properly warmed up. When I practice, I find that it usually takes me an hour of straight dancing before I feel pretty loose and can start to play around, and that is with one partner who is very familiar with my style.

Regarding the "play" aspect, I still have difficulty feeling like I can experiment with other dancers (especially in a milonga) because I am always cautious about trying to keep things comfortable, and it's almost like I don't know if I have permission to make things more challenging. And given my tendency to be a reluctant dancer I don't offer people the opportunity to get too familiar with my approach. I suppose it might help if I was more open to dancing beyond one tanda at a time with anyone, but I remain resistant to that if only because I am so tied to Argentine etiquette. I just hope that doesn't give off the impression that I'm blowing anybody off. At this point it is very rare for me to have a dance experience that is unbearable because I am already so cautious before I consent to dancing it pretty much guarantees a good experience; I only go out when I know it will work. In this regard I feel very close to something Carlos Gavito said, as quoted in Paul Pellicoro's book on Tango:

...I swear to God that I enjoy every single tango I dance. That is why, when I go to a milonga, I don't dance the whole night. I dance a few selected tangos. What is important is that I always dance well. [...] If I can't find the right partner, I won't dance. If I don't like the music, I won't dance. So, to describe to you my best tango moment is impossible, because for me every tango is a best moment.

Words I live by, in tango and beyond.

18 ene 2008

2008-01-19T00:18:00.000-02:00

Feeling much better now, enough to get back out on the floor, although to be honest I'm still kind of riding the winter tango blahs. Nevertheless, managed to get some really good practice with A last night. Both of us have not danced much lately and had some rust to work off, but also felt pretty fresh mentally speaking. Worked out a new turn which just kind of came out of nowhere. "That's really nice!" A exclaimed after I repeated it a few times. Had to figure it out after the fact. I love those moments when new things just happen. Although they will never have the purity after that initial discovery. Subsequently, it becomes something "learned" and as such exists as a predetermined part of the repertoire. But that's okay. Always nice to have a different manner of expression.

On Monday I went to one of the "Farewell" milongas for Roberto Riobo at La Cumparsita. At the time I was still having difficulty with my back and only consented to one dance, with M, who just got back into town. We had only danced together on one occasion, and this after several years of missed opportunities. I really like her as a dancer but at times I have a little bit of difficulty because her steps and her resistance are so light, and I think she reads my lead a bit differently than I intend it. At times I completely lose track of where she is, where the weight is on which foot. I think this is all still just a calibration issue and something that will correct itself with mutual familiarity. To be fair, on this occasion we danced to what I found to be a particularly difficult tanda. First off, it was Pugliese, and I may have mentioned this before but though I love his music I CANNOT dance to it, at least not in a way that leaves me satisfied. And this was not easy Pugliese, not the stuff from the 40's. No Mala Junta here. One song in particular was completely unfamiliar, almost all strings, all rubato, slow, no discernible rhythmic underpinning – very elusive. When it was over M and I had a little chuckle over how amorphous it was, how little accessibility it offered to dancers.

Aside from the dance with M I sat and watched, as I usually do. Roberto performed one song which got stretched out to three by audience demand. Always a joy to watch. He's playful and quirky but can also put on his porteño face and project some intensity when he wants to.

This weekend, hope to get out there again. Maybe play around with that new turn a little.

13 enero 2008

2008-01-13T23:55:00.001-02:00

Another weekend devoid of tango. The weather is gorgeous here in the Bay Area, unseasonably mild as the meteorologists describe it. Gives me a chance to recuperate. Right now I'm sitting in the Village Grounds café in Berkeley, one of my favorite wifi/java hotspots. Really wanted to go to the Turns/Lapiz workshops at La Pista with Marika & Avik, and to Roberto Riobo's workshops on Saturday but decided to pass to let my back heal. The cold is, fingers crossed, pretty much gone now. The back is better but still tender, especially when I sit for a while. When I get up I have to walk at a forward angle. Maybe I should consider this good exercise for apilado posture.

I did manage to get a few (very gentle) dances on Friday, when I visited Marcelo & Romina's milonga in Lafayette. They are good friends and mentors to me, and I credit Marcelo in particular as being the one who has most shaped my foundation and general philosophy of tango. They are freshly returned from BsAs, where they spent the holiday with family. In the meantime they squeezed in some performances at Salon Canning and La Ideal which I think showcase their current emphasis on elegance over flashiness (which they are also capable of).

Tomorrow (Monday the 14th) will be the Farewell Milonga for Roberto at the Slovenian Hall. Barring anything drastic I plan to be there. Whether or not I dance remains to be seen.

10 ene 2007

2008-01-11T02:02:00.000-02:00

Recurrent maladies: this cold is like a loser trying to impress a date by attempting to scam his way into The French Laundry without a reservation.

"I made my reservation nine months ago, you must have lost it! No? Oh wait, that guy on the list, that's me, that's my code name. No? Come on, man, I'm really trying to impress this girl, I know she's the one, don't you believe in romance? No? Truth is, I'm dying, and before I go I want to experience the finest meal to be had on this cruel world..."

Also, I re-injured my back lifting a box yesterday, and now I teeter from an amorphous stiffness to sudden shooting bolts of electricity that make my knees buckle and my vision go white.

These are not ideal conditions for dancing :(

Ah well, they say you can practice by visualization. Here's something to visualize and aspire to. Perhaps the dancer who closest embodies the way I (try to) conceptualize my approach to the music. Gracias, maestro...

8 ene 2008

2008-01-08T02:09:00.001-02:00

Didn't make it to The Beat, regrettably, especially after having told a few very good dancers we would meet there. One of whom I have never had the opportunity to dance with but whose style and poise I have long admired. But this is how it is with me. I have literally gone years with the intention of dancing with someone without ever having the right opportunity. Even now, there are several very prominent followers with whom I haven't had the pleasure of sharing a tanda. I don't think this is particularly the best way to go about it, it just builds the anticipation to a point where it would be difficult to live up to. Even so, I am rarely disappointed when we finally get together on the floor. Hopefully, it's the same on her end.

Had difficulty sleeping the night before, still had some residual pain in my back and had some odd rumblings in my belly. Woke up feeling like my guts were doing la ronda. Not severe, like a Troilo milonga tanda. Pretty mellow, say, a Canaro set. Good enough to go to work, but not good enough to plaster on a cheerful demeanor for my coworkers. Stomach slowly settled as the day wore on. Post work, had the intention of making it to the práctica--after a nap. We all know what a bad idea that is. Of course, I didn't get up in time. Ah well, the body needs what it needs and I've learned it's always best to listen because it will let you know.

Feeling better today but uncertain. It seems the m.o. for the currently circulating pathogen is to attack in waves. It's almost as if a bunch of different ones made a pact and have decided to back each other up. As such I'm not letting my guard down.

In the meantime, here is a link for a clip I've been much admiring lately. It's of a couple named Roxana Suarez and Sebastián Achaval doing a demo in Seoul. Disfruta!

7 ene 2008

2008-01-07T20:15:00.000-02:00

My weekend:

Many hours in front of the tv under the covers in my sweats.

-Man, The Last Samurai is actually pretty bad, huh?

-So I guess triple axels are getting pretty routine in women's figure skating.

-I can't believe Jurassic Park is 15 years old. I remember the first time I saw The Graduate it was about 25 and that seemed ancient to me for some reason. Come to think of it, that was probably around the time that Jurassic Park was released. I am so old.

-Futurama rules.

Nighttimes I managed to tumble out of bed, hop in the shower and head to the call of the bandoneon. Saturday night was the inaugural Late Shift milonga at the Metronome, hosted by David and Mariana. I got there around 1, there was a good crowd circulating. D & M cozied up the place a bit by dragging a couple of couches to the sidelines and were serving hot pot stickers when I arrived. Everybody thought I had come from aMuse but no, I was just being cheap by waiting for the after 12:30 discount ($7, opposed to $10). Stayed until about a quarter past 3, later I would hear they ran about half an hour longer. Good music, good vibes. Plenty of space on the floor which assisted in a good flow.

Sunday to La Taza in Oakland, again a gathering I would describe as "intimate." Spent most of the time chatting with Mariana and got some insights into follower perspective, which always intrigues me. Danced my only dance of the weekend, one and a half milongas (D'Arienzo) with Elaine. Both of us were recuperating from something and taking it easy. Had a decaf and chocolate mousse which was decadent but perhaps a bit too rich and sweet for me, should have cut it with water or milk or something along those lines.

Tonight, will attempt The Beat, but will see how I feel...

5 ene 2008

2008-01-05T21:57:00.000-02:00

Yesterday morning, the Richmond/San Rafael Bridge was dancing. Not so much a tango, though. More like a rumba, or maybe salsa. Lots of hip movement. Sitting at a standstill I watched the gray waves churning below, the waters of the bay leaping up towards the span like suicides in reverse. My head and stomach spun as the road shuddered and twisted beneath my car. Was late to work, sick from the motion as well as an impending cold which made my throat and sinuses feel like they had been dragged along asphalt, and also aggravated the tenacious back pain I've been nursing for a week. Much to my dismay, I found that even if I wanted to go home and recuperate I was stuck, as the bridge shut down in both directions shortly after I had disembarked. Not surprising, as I drove past an overturned big rig near the end of the westbound side--heard there were two in the other direction. Also, flooding all around me, in particular to the north which closed those roads. Got through the day with Airborne and Advil, then after clocking out I wend my way towards the East Bay by heading south, GGB to SF and then Bay Bridge east. Along the way, since it was convenient, stopped by Val 16 to pick up some dulce de leche and some alfajores. Later, would enjoy same with some nice hot maté (Taragüi, Sin Palos, which I feel is smoother than the regular kind and has much less powder). Today, feel significantly better, hopefully enough to attend the inaugural Late Shift milonga at the Metronome.

2 ene 2008

2008-01-02T23:52:00.000-02:00

Well, that didn't take long.

Last night, the Hangover Milonga at La Pista, hosted by Ney, fresh from his travels eastward. A limited number of dancers in house, but he kept the chairs empty by evoking "Texas Rules": at least five couples dancing at all times, and since it was follower-heavy no leader gets to sit while a follower is waiting, else he calls last tanda. Was still coddling my back but felt much better about my dancing. I'm thinking perhaps the amount of free space affects my overall dance in a way that goes beyond the physical, that when I'm in a crowded room with difficult energy my mental focus gets stretched to the point where everything ends up functioning at a very low level. It's definitely a consequence of my reluctance to dance. You'd think I'd have accumulated enough experience to deal with tight spaces by now. Then again, it's not so much the amount of space as the consistency of flow. Give me a packed floor that moves well and I'm okay.

(Followers: unless you've had the chance to lead in a difficult space – though you may be sympathetic to the leaders' plight – you have no idea how difficult it can be. I know a top-notch follower who is of late devoting practice to leading, and after a night on a difficult floor she was flushed with exasperation as I've never seen her. "When you follow it's always so easy," she said. "Just close your eyes and dance. But leading... the middle of the floor is chaos, and the outer lanes don't move!")

But we all know leaders who can make the best of any situation, the ones who just seem to carve a path through the maelstrom and emerge as easily as through a fog. I don't know exactly how to do that, obviously. Some part of me suspects that you have to be willing to use your partner as a kind of wedge and that's not something I'd want to do. I've spoken to some leaders about this and voiced my concern about protecting my partner and being mindful of her space, and the responses I've gotten tend to indicate that they don't really worry about things like that. Which is not to say they don't take good care of their partners. They take responsibility for the couple primarily by dancing well, that's all. Simple, no?

1 ene 2008 - SATD (another tango neurosis).

2008-01-01T22:10:00.000-02:00

Winter seems to be that magical time of year that saps the desire to tango. I've been feeling pretty burnt out lately, and in retrospect I have gone through tango funks during this season for the past few years. In conversation and in observation of noted absences it seems I'm not the only one. Also, when I was in BsAs this past June the tango scene was particularly slow. (I asked my friend Negracha, a prominent milonguera, if it was always like this at this time of year and she replied that while it's usually slower it was particularly bad this year). Porteño y Bailarin only had one of their dance floors open, and La Nacional had no more than ten people in attendance--including the performers--on the two separate occasions I visited.

What is it about winter? Is it that we're all just tired and cold and would rather stay at home? I think it must be more than that, because that wouldn't account for the blah feeling once we've--or at least for me--already made the effort to go out.

Right now, it's more than just an emotional/inspirational funk for me, though. Lately I've been having increased difficulty concentrating. Not just on my partner or even my own movements, but with the entire floor, the people around me, and even the music which I'm generally pretty familiar with. It's probably the last that is most troubling. My expression has trickled to a feeble vocabulary of utilitarian movements and my dance dynamic has been flatlining. I can't even remember most of the myriad possibilities that I've learned over the years, and what's worse I can't even seem to open myself up to exploring new possibilities, or even feel curious at transitional moments in the dance where ideally I'd think "what if?" And in milonga I can't play with the rhythm like I used to, I can't even seem to connect to the habanera on a basic level.

All I can do at this point is ride it out and trust that it will pass. But there is a part of me that wonders, do I even care all that much if it does, or does it really matter? (Obviously, the answer is yes to both if it's an issue at all, even if it's not for some part of my psyche). This part of me, the voice of apathy, has hindered me in just about everything I've ever gotten involved in. I'm sure it's the same story with everyone. I'll discover something and get really excited about it so I pursue it with brio, then all of a sudden the fire just peters out and I more or less just drop it. So far, tango has been one of the longest-lived of my passions and I guess that makes it more precious in a way, makes me more codependent on it. Because without tango I have no idea what I'd really feel passionate about. And a life without passion... well, the poets and the philosophers and the grand storytellers have expounded on that subject a lot better than I can right now.

***

So last night was the New Year's All-nighter at The Beat, and a grand time was had by all. Lots of ladies looking lovely, decked up in their fancy evening dresses and assassin heels. Dapper gents in their status wear. Me in my "once a year" suit, more for show than for practicality and comfort. Rina spiffed up the place with lots of little details, streamers at the entrance and various decorations hanging from the walls, and generally kept things functioning efficiently with that "Russian matron" energy of hers. Michelle kept the food stocked and presented with flavor and flair. The djs--Alli, Dan and Ben--keeping the energy moving in ways that were never predictable. Champagne at midnight, a somewhat timid rendition of Auld Lang Syne (assisted by a big poster of the lyrics put up by the always-thinking-ahead Dan), circulating kisses and best wishes. Coffee and cake at two for the ever grateful, fading diurnals. Me dancing relatively poorly with good partners and enjoying it nonetheless, just glad and appreciative for the sharing. I blame the aforementioned funk and the suit and the shoes and the fact that I did a leg workout the day before and my back was killing me. Those don't sound like excuses, do they?

At any rate, I wish everybody a great 2008, may your good tandas last five songs and your bad ones last two :)

27 dic 2007 - Tango Dysmorphic Disorder and other delusions.

2007-12-27T19:44:00.000-03:00

A common thing I encounter with people in the tango community is a kind of perpetual self criticism that oftentimes doesn't reflect the reality of the situation—people who find themselves dismayed at their perceived inability to dance well, or to dance the way they would like to dance, even though their dancing is perfectly fine. While this is a kind of neurosis I find among many tango dancers, it especially seems to trouble those who have been dancing only a short time. Additionally, there seems to be a contradictory correspondence in that the ones who suffer most from this neurosis are often the ones who are progressing most quickly and who have greater potential than many. It strikes me as the same mental process as the most beautiful girl in the room who can't stop fretting about her appearance. Perhaps it is partly this insecurity that drives them to work harder, thus accelerating their progress. Or it is the heightened self awareness that comes from self criticism that makes them more aware of the intricacies of their body movements. Regrettably, because so much energy is devoted to self-analysis any joy they manage to find in the dance is hard won and fleeting, and only grudgingly accepted as something that will suffice "for now."

Then there is the opposite, where people who are particularly poor dancers apparently feel as though they rule the floor. They are the ones who never go to classes or take lessons because "they already know it." Or else they attend classes and workshops far beyond their abilities because they consider themselves "advanced." They are the ones who wrench every volcada, lift, boleo, and everything else they have ever seen out of their (and their partners') bodies and fit it in to their interpretation of every single song, imagining themselves to be dynamic and expressive but in actuality appearing more like wrestlers than dancers. Sometimes these people even go so far as to promote themselves as instructors, or at least will not hesitate to point out to others (unasked) how they should be dancing. One incident in particular stands out in my mind, when I was at a milonga in BsAs and one member of my tour group, who was a truly limited dancer, stopped in the middle of a song and explained to a porteña (with whom he somehow lucked upon a dance) what she was supposed to do when he did a particular lead. The look of sheer incredulity on her face apparently escaped his notice. Could it be that the confidence these people have in turn impedes their progress due to the lack of introspection and lucid self analysis? And yet, oftentimes these are people who seemingly enjoy the dance most consistently.

This is a question I asked myself some time ago: which would you rather be, a dancer who dances badly but enjoys himself or a dancer who dances well but feels dissatisfied? Almost invariably, I lean towards the latter, but I think it's not a question that's as black and white as it seems. I really think it depends on what it is you enjoy about the dance, and for me that can change at anytime according to my mood. For example, last night I felt I wasn't dancing particularly well at all, but I didn't really care. In the moment it meant more to me just to be in the milonga environment with some good friends. Another time it might have weighed on me more heavily, leaving me frustrated and insecure. I think as you get more and more experienced in the dance you just fret a lot less at the times when you're game is off or when you feel burnt out because you've been through it all so many times before and so you know it'll pass, and you know that when it does there is often a renewed freshness of perspective. It's understandable that less experienced dancers would stress these situations more because they can take a toll on one's ego and confidence. But these blows to one's self esteem are healthy, otherwise there would be no progress at all. We only get better because we want to get better. And as we keep at it we do improve, in ways we can or even can't be conscious of, almost as if we have no choice about it. The one choice you have to make is to continue or not, and everything else falls into place after that one decision. As a very good dancer once said to me, when it comes to progress there is simply no substitute for time. You can only force progress so much with the work you do, but ultimately the mind and the body can assimilate only so much and will proceed at their own rate. You just have to be patient and rest assured that the dance is indeed honing itself within you, even when it feels like a plateau. (Of course, this isn't to say that dedicated practice has no part in it, but that is a subject for another post.)

12 dic 2007 - Cellspace, DJ duties.

2007-12-13T23:05:00.000-03:00

Cellspace was a meat locker last night. The cold, still air inside that metal warehouse was insidious, seeping inside my jeans and hoodie jacket like it was trying to suffocate me. It was a little tricky to arrange my music on the Macbook with my fingers trembling. Trackpad nuances can be pretty precarious when you are playing for a crowd, just an fyi. Many folks I know use a USB mouse but for those like me who like to stick with the stock computer, it may be prudent to turn off the trackpad tap/click function. I had to learn this lesson the hard way once, zapping a song mid stride from an errant touch (I stand by my assertion that my computer was being overly sensitive that night).

I wasn't altogether prepared for the evening as DJ issues seemed to constantly pop up. I was originally slated to share duties with Gordo but he had to be in L.A., so he swapped with Sabrina. A few hours before showtime I got an email from Ben telling me that Sabrina was sick and that he would fill in, but he had to leave early to pick someone up from the airport. I was counting on either Gordo or Sabrina to fill in a lot of the alternative music because that's really not my speciality, but since I now had to cover more of the evening myself I had to construct a couple of tandas pretty quickly. Homer offered to take up some of the slack later in the evening if I didn't feel comfortable but I felt I could get by, and besides it would be good exercise as I don't often play a whole night myself (although in a way that's actually easier than switching off).

Once the momentum for the milonga had found its groove Sean stopped by the DJ table and gave us praise for getting and keeping everybody out on the floor. I had to reply that we couldn't take all the credit because essentially the options were to dance, or freeze. But in all seriousness I was happy the way the music played out and was glad to see everybody enjoying themselves. Ben's additions kept the flow going smoothly and added much needed variety at the right places. Now I just have two weeks to put together my next playlists for the post-Christmas milonga at Cellspace, where I will be sharing music duties with Homer. Should be a good time.

My playlists were as follows:

FIRST ROUND - De Caro, tango set: Mala Junta, La Rayuela, El Espiante. Alternative milonga set: El Llorón (electrocutango), Junto a las Piedras (Otros Aires), Miles de Pasajeros - Omar Remix (Bajofondo). Donato, tango set: Mi Serenata, Amando En Silencio, Muchacho de Cafetin. Biagi, tango set: Pura Clase, La Marca De Fuego, El Estribo. De Angelis, vals set: Olga, Pampa y Cielo, Ilusión Azul.

SECOND ROUND - Alternative set: Shy Kind of Guy (Gogol Bordello), Easy (Tracey Thorn), Arrabal (Gotan Project). Pugliese, tango set: Malandraca, La Tupungatina, Pata Ancha. Lomuto, milonga set: Serenata, Parque Patricios, No Hay Tierra Como La Mía. Fresedo, tango set: Sueño Azul, Tigre Viejo, Dulce Amargura. D'Arienzo, vals set: Pabellón de las Rosas, Amor y Celos, A una Mujer. Alternative set: Grateful Days (Dragon Ash), Pa' Bailar (Bajofondo).

11 dic 2007 - El Día Del Tango

2007-12-11T23:01:00.000-03:00

Not much to write today, but thought I should post in acknowledgment of El Día Del Tango. For those not in the know, today is officially the day of tango because it is the birthday of both Carlos Gardel and Julio De Caro. So do a little dance and raise a little drink to give thanks.

Viva la 2 x 4...

1 dic 2007

2007-12-01T22:07:00.000-03:00

Not much tango the last few days. Thursday night practice with A, she was having some issues with injury and I was tired and unfocused. Nevertheless, we managed to find some good insight into specific issues we were having together which made for a productive evening, which was surprising given our conditions. Just goes to show that gems can be found in the unlikeliest of circumstances. Also got some clarification from Homer over certain ideas that I still--and probably always will--have struggles with. Basically issues with leading giros. Homer's concept of continuous and consistent resistance makes sense, and given that his dance tends to have a lot of circularity to it his opinion carries a lot of weight. Although even he will stress that it's what works for him and I can evaluate its worth and compatibility with my own approach.

I'm in the headspace right now where the kind of study that many of us devote to refining our approach to tango seems a little dubious and, in my lesser moments, even strikes me as silly in a way. Well, maybe I can't speak for anybody else, but certainly in my own case. I go through this phase from time to time so it's nothing new. But when I think about how a lot of my favorite dancers came to develop their approach, they didn't do it by going to workshops or studying in classes. They did it by dancing a lot and adoring the music so much that their bodies became a conduit, uniquely filtered and flavored by everything they have experienced in life. I think sometimes that nowadays the dance is getting to be a bit too uniform and the reason for this is the manner in which it is being taught, and more importantly, the manner in which it is conceptualized by those who are trying to learn. Many times I have been in the presence of a student asking a teacher how to perform a specific movement, ie. how to do a volcada. It makes me think that for so many people it's just a matter of "connecting the elements". And for me, from an observer's perspective it often comes across as very mechanical in action, even from some who perform the movements well. Even when it comes to tiny embellishments, which I think should be unique from person to person, I see something pre-defined, and often thrown in haphazardly without accenting anything particular in the music. Perhaps it's that people want to make the dance richer, but I don't think that richness and complexity are necessarily interdependent. And personally, I never get on the dance floor with the intention of challenging my partner but rather to make for a comfortable experience. This makes my idiom simple, some might say to the point of being simplistic, which is another issue I face and constantly examine. I'm sure that for some followers out there a dance with me just wouldn't get them excited. (On nerve.com they have a poll every week called "Marry, Fuck, or Kill" in which three candidates are named and pollsters vote on which one would fall under which category; I'm pretty sure in terms of approaches to social dance I wouldn't be voted under the "Fuck" category, instead falling under one of the other two.) The way I try to reconcile this is by being as attuned to the music as I can and expressing, in easy movements (or non-movements), as many different facets as possible in terms of rhythm, phrasing, mood, energy, specific instrumentation, etc. Which is yet another reason why I tend to be so picky about which tanda I consent to dance to. Because if I dance to a tanda which I don't feel inspired by in the moment, the dance will be very by-the-numbers, and I don't enjoy subjecting myself or anyone else to that if I can avoid it.

I won't say that I have no interest in studying some of the complex mechanics of advanced elements, but I hope that in the end I can express the moment in terms that don't break down simply into "volcada, cunita, sacada..." In fact, I sometimes get wary of named movements because that seems to imply something already defined, and I think there should always be at least an attempt to approach each dance fresh and without preconception. In a way I'm sure this isn't completely possible considering the communication aspect between leader and follower and floor dynamics. But unless we allow ourselves to explore, to express the most unexpected ideas, to dance with uncertainty and blind faith, we are essentially engaging merely in recreation and not creation. And that, to me, seems like an exercise in nostalgia. Nothing against that, but I just hope that tango is still something alive, vital, relevant, and contemporary. (I had a discussion with someone the other day who was of the opinion that tango actually died a long time ago and that nostalgia, though valuable, was really the main relevance that it has. While I can see his point and have a high degree of respect for his perspective, I have to say I'm of a different opinion).

26 nov 2007

2007-11-27T18:31:00.000-03:00

Orange práctica at The Beat. Got there at my usual time, around 10:30. The place was already pretty empty by then, and folks were packing up as I arrived. Seems to be an affliction of fatigue going around in the tango community lately, everybody I talk to mentions how tired they've been. Even though I took a nap right before I came I still could only dance a few tandas before I had to sit. As such I didn't get much accomplished, though the dances I did manage were enjoyable.

With a clear floor for some of the advanced dancers there was some fancy steppin' going on so it was fun to just watch. Feeling a little burnt right now, although simultaneously eager to work on some of the ideas that Homer and I were working on last week. Plan to take Tuesday and Wednesday off from tango and hopefully get some gym time in, then come in fresh for Thursday practice with A.

Viva la down time...

25 nov 2007

2007-11-26T03:04:00.000-03:00

Quick recap of the weekend: Friday night, private with Homer. He was generous with his time, patient in his manner, and judicious and diplomatic about the concepts we worked on. As I expected, I got a lot of fresh insights and will try to find a way to reconcile the ideas into my dance.

Saturday night, All-nighter at The Beat. Good energy for the night, lots of out of towners. Generally leader-heavy. Had some really nice dances but managed to bump and get bumped, par for the course between midnight and 3 AM. Made some terrible coffee due to the fact that someone lost the instruction manual for the urn and I had to guess the amount of coffee to use. Later found I used a full cup less than I should have. In the end it seemed as if everybody left at once, all around 4, which seemed a shade early.

Sunday afternoon, práctica at Allegro. Decent practice although a bit low energy due to the previous evening and residual turkey loginess. Tried to incorporate some of the ideas from the private but want to ease into it as not to overwhelm myself or partners.

Thus ends the long weekend. Think I'll take a nice hot bath.

21 nov 2007 - Cellspace

2007-11-22T18:25:00.000-03:00

We had a dearth of volunteers at set up and it was just Homer, Cristina and me. Cristina said it was like the good old days back in the beginning of Cellspace, when it was just her and Homer doing everything. We reflected on how it was different then - different floor, different decor, different bathroom. How ratty and disgusting those old couches were. Interesting to notice how it has changed, which I don't usually reflect on since I am here so often and the process seemed pretty gradual (aside from a few weeks of closure when they were doing some serious remodeling). David and Mariana taught the intermediate/advanced class while Sergei and Stephanie taught the beginners. I was sitting at the door so only saw what the beginners were doing but it seemed like a fairly complex idea for the level, cross system walk on the closed side of the embrace. But I guess the teaching must have been pretty clear because they appeared to pick it up. I had never seen S & S teach before but thought they looked good together whenever I saw them social dancing, and on the occasion that I dance with Stephanie it's always a pleasure, she's absolutely rock solid and has a fun expressive style. I couldn't see the int./adv. lesson too well but think it might have had something to do with overrotated ochos and sacadas. When D & M did the demo at the end it was mixed with a lot of really interesting variations so I'm not sure what the focus was.

Much of my time was sitting at door duty with Cristina, and in conversation she gave me a lot of little gems from a follower point of view and also concerning the process of changing perspectives as one becomes more experienced in tango. Also regarding shoes, in particular women's shoes and the nuances that make for a good or bad shoe for dancing (C prefaced this part of the conversation by stating she was a "shoe slut" or something along those lines; the number of pairs she told me she owns is, by my count, fairly outrageous - we're talking Imelda Marcos territory ;P). I think the shape and build of a shoe is probably more of an issue for women's shoes than for men's, although naturally we guys have to take care of our feet and our posture and balance as well. Of the few pairs I own I have only three brands - Flabella, Darcos, and Tango Brujo. I find that the Flabellas are very sturdy but a little narrow at the tip for my foot shape, and their earlier shoes seem to have an issue where they dig uncomfortably into the heel (they apparently have resolved this in the newer models, say post 2004/2005). The Darcos pair has a comfortable width and have also proved surprisingly sturdy given the model I own is the kind with the crossed leather weave. The Tango Brujo pair are practice sneakers and I've been dancing almost exclusively with them since I got them in June since they are so comfortable but also are simple to put on or take off because they are slip-ons with velcro fasteners. On certain floors the sole is a little grabby because of the material, not sure what it is. Maybe suede.

Managed to get a couple dances in, both lovely but lacking in imagination on my part. Think I was really tired. As I was leaving I encountered M, who almost convinced me to stay since it was her birthday and wanted to dance. It was a tough call, but I had stuff to take care of at home and was already later than I had intended to be, plus if I left it would give her a good parking space in front. And, to restate, I was tired and felt my dance wasn't focused or inspired at the moment. I promised her a dance the next time we meet.

So I guess given the holiday I'm staying in tonight. Just as well, I think my body needs the rest. Some people seem to dance 24/7 and I wonder if they aren't actually doing harm to their progress. Just as with any athletic activity I'm sure dance carries the risk of overtraining, which pretty much every athlete will say is worse than under training. But also there necessarily has to be a time apart from the actual physical practice of the dance where the mind uses the break to assimilate the concepts and in effect rewire the networks accordingly. A passage in maestro Charles Rosen's book "Piano Notes" (I've been reading a lot of piano related books lately) reads:

A proof of how purely physical the process of learning music can be is the fact that if one practices a passage steadily for a quarter of an hour, an immediate improvement does not always appear. The next day, however, it has suddenly and magically improved as if the labor was validated only by a night's sleep. It is simply that technique works at its best when the involuntary part of the mind takes over more completely. Then consciousness, no longer burdened with the difficulty of hitting the right notes, can assess all the other aspects of performance.

Just a thought for some of the gung ho tangueros and tangueras who never seem to sleep. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving all (or, as Bobby Hill from King of the Hill called it, "Thankstaking Day"). And again, Happy B-day M! Un gran beso para vos!

21 nov 2007

2007-11-21T19:26:00.000-03:00

Last night was Ney's group lesson at La Pista. Wasn't planning to go but got a note that it was to be his last class of the year in SF. Had to rush home after work to pick up my shoes.

Whenever I go to anybody's group class it's always amazing to me how it seems to reset me to beginner mode. I think it has something to do with the class atmosphere that makes me unable to relax. Everything becomes noticeably stiff, especially my legs, which I tend to lock out. The lesson itself covered some relatively simple subject matter but it's the nuances that I find tricky. Ney has a style which is fairly sensuous, with the upper body in particular creating a kind of cradle effect. It's very nice to watch and I think would be a sweet way to accompany your partner, but as of yet I can't do it in a manner that feels natural and unaffected to me. Afterwards went straight home, opting not to go to El V since I had stuff to attend to, and also wanted to head to the gym which is something that has been sorely neglected as of late.

Tonight, will head to Cellspace for a spell. Probably will come home a little early, though.

20 nov 2007

2007-11-20T18:04:00.000-03:00

Short vignettes for the past couple days: Sunday afternoon, práctica at the Allegro Ballroom with A. Always good to dance with her, brings me back to a state of equilibrium. Decided that the shoe factor wasn't the major issue that's been troubling me of late, but did note something that has been affecting my walk, particularly when stepping outside of my partner, which is a direct influence of the lessons I took with Los Rivarolas a few weeks ago. Something I still need to calibrate.

Sunday night, La Taza in Oakland. Sat at the bar and had some stimulating tango chats, accompanied by cheesecake and café au lait. A couple of dances, all very nice, along the narrow floor, avoiding the heating grate at the end which clanged alarmingly with an errant step. Not a big crowd but a warm, intimate evening that flew by.

Monday night, práctica at The Beat. As at the ODC on Friday, spent most of the time working exercises in front of the mirror. Not one dance all night. The only dancers I wanted to practice with were always accompanying others, or else deeply engaged in conversation which I didn't want to disturb.

Regarding last night, I feel as if I was fomenting a kind of rebellion in the sense that I wanted to bring the "practice" back to the "práctica." In my mind, the local practice nights tend to become more of a well lit milonga and as such are difficult places to really work. But perhaps I shouldn't fight the local tide.

I think I must be approaching the social dance all wrong, at least here in the Bay Area. So often I'll see a dancer who I'd like to dance with preoccupied with something so I don't want to bother them, but inevitably some guy who has no qualms about interrupting will come up and get them out on the dance floor. Or else, when she finishes dancing with one guy (after FIVE TANDAS or so) I figure she'd like a break so I let her alone, but before she can even sit down some other guy has rushed up and led her back out. And the one or the other happens ALL NIGHT. Or else when I see them alone and unoccupied they often have a very detached, aloof, and perhaps exhausted look about them, and again I don't want to impose. It's something I have yet to get used to. Nothing bothers me more than to see a woman who clearly doesn't want to dance get goaded / whined / insisted into accompanying someone. That's something I just don't get. How can a guy enjoy a dance with someone who clearly doesn't want to? Does her opinion even matter at all? Or are they so full of themselves that they are convinced a dance with them is always a pleasure? Well, I just can't bring myself to be that guy.

That's not to say I'm completely a victim. I turn down invitations all the time (hopefully as amicably as I can), and also consciously ignore obvious vibes sent in my direction. It goes back to the insecurity thing. If I can't say with any certainty whether I'll have an enjoyable dance I'll opt out. Whether that's because of the dancer or the music or the energy on the floor or my own headspace at the moment. I guess there are more excuses for me not to dance than to dance.

So where does that leave me? Basically, it's once in a blue moon where the desired follower is available and apparently willing, where the music is right, where la ronda flows well, where I have energy and inspiration. It's like the alignment of planets. And as such I'm pretty sure it's probably not the most beneficial way to go about it. But then again, I can say that I enjoy nearly all the dances I get since there is so much that needs to go right before I even consent. Most other people seem to opt for the volume approach, where given the amount of dancing they do they are bound to have some good ones in there somewhere, and they don't mind working through many difficult dances to get the few gems. I guess I just don't have the stamina for that approach. So I shouldn't complain, not that I am. When I weigh the options, of reflecting upon a night full of difficult dances versus a night without any dances at all, I would say I lean towards the latter. I guess I just want all of my dance experiences to be good. Unrealistic, absolutely. Call me a romantic.

18 nov 2007

2007-11-18T19:53:00.000-03:00

Metronome last night. A nice time with some good music and seeing some good friends but somehow felt very removed from it all. Even after all the time I've been involved in tango I still sometimes feel like the outsider looking in. That's always been a part of my nature and it doesn't kick in with the severity that it used to, but I still get it sometimes. Didn't dance much, which is the usual story with me. The energy on the floor looked pretty chaotic and I didn't want to subject myself or any partner to it, plus live music is difficult to dance to. I mentioned this to a friend who replied that live music is good to practice improvisation, but that is certainly not one of my strong points. I feel like I've been dancing with pretty much the same movements for a long time now, although my approach to those movements seems to constantly change. There is a part of me that hungers for some variety, but it gets outvoted by this nagging conscientiousness to keep things simple and unobtrusive for my partner and for the dancers around me. Even though I have studied more things than I can remember and have a greater lexicon than I use, I just can't get myself to feel that much of it is appropriate in a social setting. Not to mention that I dance so infrequently with anybody that I don't feel as if I have "permission" to introduce anything risky with them, especially since at this stage of neglect most of these other possibilities are probably not well tuned. But thinking this over brought to mind a comment I read by the pianist Sviatoslav Richter, who upon hearing a recording by another pianist remarked, "He's knowledgeable and plays well, but he never throws himself headlong into the sea. Perhaps he'll never do so." When I think about it I'm absolutely certain that I, too, am playing it way too safe, that I'm approaching things too cautiously. But on the other hand, I am well aware that a milonga is not the place to work out these issues. I think, in general, that in a milonga it is better to err on the safe side.

Regarding the dances I had, even though they were all enjoyable I felt off for all of them, which made me reconsider my thoughts about my connection with the dancer from the other day. Perhaps it's not anything on her end at all. I have a thought which may be dubious but which many hold some weight, that it may be my shoes. Thing is, for a while now I've been dancing almost exclusively in my practice calzados but for the last couple of days I switched back to my formal zapatos which have a significantly different feel to them. The zapatos have a higher and harder heel, harder soles and more of a point at the tip. This makes them more of a hazard for others, which is something to be cautious of in itself, but also makes them noisier, which is something I am also conscientious about. So I'm wondering if this can account for the increased tentativeness in my steps and my lead. I will take them to the practica in Emeryville this afternoon and see if I can work this out.

Later tonight I will go to the La Taza milonga in Oakland. Being a new venue it's still finding its audience but will hopefully start to pick up as it's a nice place to gather.

17 nov 2007

2007-11-17T20:43:00.000-03:00

Relatively little to write for the last couple days. Thursday night was practice night with A, got some small details resolved concerning posture adjustment when opening the embrace, other than that it was mostly dancing with occasional stops to rest and/or to fine tune things. Homer, who was conducting a private in the same room, said something about us being pretty hardcore since we dance pretty consistently for three hours, but hearing his schedule I think our workload is relatively pretty mild.

Friday night was at the ODC practica, spent most of the time doing exercises in the mirror. I did manage to get in some practice with actual partners. The first one, sad as I am to say it, was not comfortable, and it is especially regrettable to me because it was with someone who I like as a dancer and a friend but who I am increasingly having difficulty dancing with. She's beautiful, talented, and ambitious, but I just feel our energies are very different. Every time I get into an embrace with her she feels so delicate that I'm afraid the energy I usually like to project will overwhelm her. So I end up trying to hold back but that goes too far and I don't transmit my intentions clearly. Lately I'm finding that after we dance I get this nagging feeling that both of us feel frustrated, perhaps due to a mutual admiration and respect that is coupled with the bewilderment that our approaches don't work with one another. The connection just doesn't feel right from the get go. So now, lamentably, I'm almost resigned to the idea that it would probably be better if we didn't dance together. I'll have to discuss this with her the next time I see her. At least I know that she has plenty other willing partners with whom she seemingly connects with in a more compatible manner.

I fared better with the other partner, a dancer from out of town who teaches in her community but made a trip here to study a bit (actually, I had met her the day before as she accompanied her partner to the private with Homer). We started with milonga, progressed through tango, and ended with a vals. She was solid and receptive and I felt pretty free to dance naturally, although of course it's prudent not to unleash everything with someone who is unfamiliar. Throughout it all we gave each other minor feedback and exchanged ideas, which is the kind of back and forth I like to have in a practica.

Tonight to Metronome to see Trio Garufa and Michelle and Murat. Might stop at aMuse earlier, as I understand some people will hit both milongas in that order, but right now I'm feeling that the one will be enough.

14 nov 2007

2007-11-15T17:46:00.000-03:00

Cellspace tonight, shared DJ duties with T. Not sure about the flow, I feel like it was kind of uneven. I like and respect T but I have to admit we have very different ideas of how to build tandas and how to regulate the energy of the music. So I think for anybody paying attention it was very obvious when one or the other of us were playing. The people responded well, so that's all that matters. I played one tanda in my first round which I knew going in was going to be very iffy and it turned out to be even worse than I feared. Modern milonga set by Quinteto Ventarrón, who play tangos that are really intended to be listened to rather than danced to. More in a jazzy vein. Watching the people struggle to that was painful. Right before the tanda came on I was chomping at the bit to change it, but I had already told T that he would be coming in with his music after that tanda and he had arranged his selections accordingly, so I didn’t want to mess up his direction (I’ve had that done to me before and it is a BITCH to have to reshuffle your music at the last second). So I grudgingly let it go.

As the night progressed I found myself reconsidering my originally intended tandas a bit more than expected, as did T. Finding the right energy was proving elusive. There were always dancers on the floor (Cellspace is very forgiving that way) but I was having trouble really getting everybody into it the way I wanted. And I knew before I could get them into the groove I had to bring them to a place where they were comfortable. T was spinning a lot of alternative stuff so I 86’d some of my experimental/alt selections and kept things familiar. On my second round I threw down some high energy heavy hitters – Fresedo instrumentals from the 30’s, Biagi with Falgas, D’Arienzo milongas. I felt the crowd was starting to get into a groove but right then we had to interrupt to have a performance from Murat and Michelle. They decided on their music one tanda before they were up. Murat asked me to play the vals “Tres Esquinas” by D’Agostino and then Canaro’s “Poema.” Right when I started their music I knew something was screwed up somehow. But you would have never known it from their amazing performance. After the two songs, Ney Melo started chanting from his seat, “Otra! Otra!” and the rest of the crowd joined in. Murat rushed to me and asked me if I had “Sacale Punta” by Donato. I promptly fired it up and they did one more for the happy audience. Later, Murat came to me and we both acknowledged that we had mistaken the first song. “Tres Esquinas” is a tango, not a vals. What we meant to play was, of course, “Esquinas Porteñas.” Damn. Too many esquinas with Los Angeles. I think under normal circumstances I might have caught that but lately my head seems to be in a fog.

After the performance it was T’s turn again. I find the way that he arranges his music kind of amorphous and elusive. He has clear ideas about how he wants to direct the energy and he constructs his playlists very deliberately, but, for example, he is fine with changing artists/orchestras inside his tandas, which as a dancer makes me feel insecure (I tend to need a lot of reassurance to feel safe on the floor, in various ways). When I was up again I had a little less than a half hour to close the night so I kept it classic and easy for the most part. In my first tanda (Di Sarli, 40’s) I was even able to get some of the ones that Homer called the “rock star” dancers on the floor – Murat, Michelle, Ney, Jennifer, et al. I kept them on with the following tanda of Caló/Berón. I almost changed my last tanda to traditional because I wanted to keep them dancing but after consulting with Homer I stayed with my original choice. 2 songs, tango electrónico, downtempo. They stayed on the floor until the end, thank god.

Here is what I played:

FIRST ROUND - Orquesta Típica Víctor: El Portenito, Quiero Papita, Recuerdo / Francisco Lomuto: La Revoltosa, Catamarca, Madreselva / Enrique Rodriguez (valses): Llora Corazón, Mariquita No Mires Al Puerto, Isabelita / Quinteto Ventarrón (milongas): De Vuelta y Media, La Trampera, Milonga De Mis Amores

SECOND ROUND - Osvaldo Fresedo: El Irresistible, Derecho Viejo, Firulete / Rodolfo Biagi: La Chacarera, Queja Indiana, El Estribo / Juan D’Arienzo (milongas): Silueta Portena, Milonga Del Corazón, Milonga Del Recuerdo

LAST ROUND - Carlos Di Sarli: El Incendio, La Cachila, Shusheta / Miguel Caló: Qué Te Importa Que Te Llore, Tarareando, Al Compas Del Corazón / Jaime Wilensky: Sentimientos, Electrocutango: Mi Viejo Dolor.

Incidentally, I didn't dance at all, which is fine. Being a dj is a pretty big responsibility.

11 nov. 2007

2007-11-12T18:54:00.000-03:00

Another night off. Took advantage of it to finally get back in the gym for some leg exercises. Since I've gotten more serious about my dance my workout has changed to try and accommodate it. Here is what I do:

-Dumbbell lunges (up to 90 lbs. or 2 x 45) - to work forward propulsion, absorption, and rebound.

-Dumbbell reverse lunges (up to 50 lbs. or 2 x 25) - to work backward propulsion, absorption, and rebound (you have to be really careful with these because it would probably be really easy to injure your ACL. Best to go very light and only after warmed up).

-Dumbbell side steps (up to 70 lbs. or 2 x 35) - for lateral propulsion, absorption, and rebound.

-Single leg extensions (up to 90 lbs.)

-Single leg curls (up to 45 lbs.)

Then I do some abs, and in the end go to the aerobics room and quickly practice front and back boleos, ganchos, and do single leg balance exercises. I've been doing this for a few months and so far it does seem to help. Of course, if I find any different I'll post about it.

10 nov. 2007

2007-11-11T21:26:00.000-03:00

I was actually planning to stay in and watch some flicks I had backlogged but got a nudge to venture out, so I headed out to aMuse. There was a new art installation on the walls which I made the mistake of scrutinizing. Some anti-war/anti-propaganda polemic which was comprised of a series of graphic photos from the conflicts of the 20th century. Nothing to inspire a milonga like looking at a bunch of horribly obliterated corpses, huh? Not that I disagree with the sentiment, but to post such a thing in a Mission District art gallery is essentially like friendly fire - you're disturbing the ones who are already on your side.

The milonga itself was definitely affected by the Tango de los Muertos festival but still managed to draw a decent crowd, plus there was a little more room for navigation. I wasn't familiar with the dj but I know he's been an SF staple for a long time now and his music selections were very good. I pretty much sat and watched / listened the whole night, which isn't unusual for me. One of my teachers and a good friend stole me for the last tanda, which unfortunately was a Pugliese set. Don't get me wrong, Pugliese is one of the orchestras I have loved for my entire tango existence but I just cannot interpret him to my satisfaction. It's the inherent tension, the rubato, the elasticity, the theatrics, etc. Being at heart an introvert, I just don't think it's in my nature. But seeing as how the inviter is such a good dancer and a good friend I couldn't really say no. From my end I definitely felt off. It was my only dance of the night so I wasn't warmed up, plus the moisture in the room seeped into the wooden floors which made them a bit grabby. But I still had fun.

Afterward, I went home and watched Spider-Man 3. Yeah, kind of a let down, but oh well. It had its dumb fun moments. Tonight maybe I'll check out Amarcord, Infernal Affairs, or Last Night.

8 nov. 2007

2007-11-09T19:13:00.000-03:00

I suppose I should come up with some more original titles for my posts, but I just don't seem to have the time. I know, I'm lazy.

I'm still new to this blogging thing but the ones I read seem to chronicle the day to day events of people who are discovering things about tango and sharing their experiences online. I don't know if anything I'll have to say about my daily routine would be of interest to anybody, nor necessarily shed any light on any subject, and also I just feel weird about broadcasting my interactions with people who may or may not be all that enthusiastic about anybody writing about them. So then I'm left with the question of what to write about, or even if it's worth it to keep a blog at all.

One thing that makes some of the tango blogs I read interesting is that they are coming from the perspective of people who are relatively new to tango, and when they are excited about a revelation their excitement carries over to their writing. Because I have already been involved for a bit longer I don't know if I can convey that same kind of feeling, the "a-ha!" kind of thing. Not that I've learned everything there is to know, far far from it. But it seems that nowadays whenever I get a new insight it's about a tiny thing, or perhaps something which I now understand in the long run will amount to just a miniscule step forward. And it's usually something technical and I don't know how much I can dress that up. Actually, a lot of the work that I do with the dance would probably bore people. Walks up and down, posture exercises, balance exercises, pivot exercises, etc. For hours. I can understand if people wouldn't want to approach their development of the dance in that manner. There is something very far removed from actually dancing in it, especially in terms of partner dancing. I look at it as doing scales or finger exercises in practicing an instrument. I realize that one of the great joys of performing the dance and one of the things most beautiful to watch is the sense of spontaneity, the appearance that something is being created very naturally in the moment. But despite all the emotion and humanity in dance, any dance, it still is fundamentally a physical, athletic activity, and the better shape you are in the better you will be able to express your art. Although I guess not everybody really needs to work on it that way. For example, probably my favorite pianist is Sviatoslav Richter, and he strongly disagreed with the use of scales for practice, opting instead to just play music over and over until it was where he wanted it to be. Glenn Gould was the same way, only he purported to practice very infrequently. So I suppose sheer talent can carry you a long way. But I think a lot of people severely overestimate their abilities. You can see this in any "intermediate" or "advanced" group class you go to, anywhere in the world. Some people don't seem to understand that tango progress doesn't happen on a stopwatch. I know plenty of people who have been dancing for years and remain terrible dancers. In fact, they seem to get worse because they add more to their vocabulary and with each element they accumulate more and more bad habits. But because they have been in tango for x amount of time they feel that gives them some sort of authority. Personally, I try to be diplomatic about it. Of course, I have my opinions on what I like or don't, and what I think is good or not, but in the end I hate to put a solid definition on what tango is. I remember one time at Confiteria Ideal I saw an older man with a face like a pug dancing incredibly harshly. He would swing his partner to one side, then the other, kind of like he was trying to kill a fly with a baseball bat. But when I looked at the woman's face over his shoulder, she had her eyes closed and a big grin on her face. And she never excused herself for the whole tanda. So who am I to say that's not tango?

7 nov. 2007

2007-11-08T18:15:00.001-03:00

Relatively little tango the last few days. Like everybody else, have been tired tired tired. So stayed in Tuesday. Wednesday on duty at Cellspace, had a hell of a time setting up the lights. The guy who runs the venue - can't remember his name - did most of the work, but in the end we only had three working lamps. Mostly I stood underneath while he changed bulbs around. I figured I'd at least be able to yell if one of them fell off the support rod from three stories up.

Attendance was relatively light, no doubt affected in part by Tango de los Muertos in Boston this week. Still a decent crowd, which speaks of the popularity of the milonga. Dan and Ben were spinning, they kept up a good energy and mixed genres pretty deftly. Dan used a cortina with a song which I just happened to also make a cortina out of, dammit. Guess I won't be using that one anytime soon.

Had just one dance but it was fun. Alternative vals set, two of the songs were from Amélie. Valses make my dance a lot more circular than usual. That's to be expected, of course. My partner was a little taller than me, which tends to create difficulties but she was really technically solid so it was a breeze. I don't dance with her often even though the dances I have had with her have been a pleasure. A lot of it is the height thing. I know a few tall followers who are excellent dancers and I regret not being just a couple inches taller myself so I could accommodate them better. But then again, there are so many fantastic followers who are shorter and to be too tall relative to them would cause another set of difficulties. A lot of tall leaders I know develop a bad habit of hunching to accommodate their partners. Height incompatibilities seem to be one of those things that are really difficult to reconcile, and I think even for instructors it's a hard subject (most of the advanced dancers I know tend to be well under six feet tall - I'm sure the lower center of gravity is a strong advantage).

Left around 10:30, just as some more friends were pulling up. Getting home to the East Bay is a drag since all the Bryant Street on-ramps are usually closed, but the city streets were pretty clear so it wasn't so bad this night.

5 nov. 2007: Monday night práctica at The Beat.

2007-11-06T18:23:00.000-03:00

I got there around 10:30. There was a decent crowd there but relatively light for this venue. It must be something about the climate that’s keeping people at home, or perhaps it’s just a busy time of year at work since we’re fast approaching the holiday season. The class earlier in the evening was taught by Dan & Pier and the subject was colgadas. This is an element of which I only have a rudimentary working knowledge. Not that I wouldn’t want to study shared axis movements in more depth, but it’s not really where my focus is right now. Especially since one of my primary objectives in the dance is to always make my partner feel safe and comfortable, and these kinds of lead / follow dynamics which rely on counterbalance seem inherently jarring in a way. Of course, that’s part of the appeal, the risk-taking factor. I equate it with the trust game where you fall backwards into another person’s arms. There are some dancers who can do them particularly well, in a way that seems like a natural expression of the moment. Being more traditionally oriented, I generally don’t utilize them socially, although I am interested in the mechanics and the possibilities that open up when you understand them well.

I danced with three partners tonight, which may not sound like much but for me is actually more than usual. I tend to be a very hesitant dancer (and I seem to have developed something of a reputation concerning this). You could call me shy and while there is truth to that it’s not really the whole picture. Feeling comfortable at a given time – whether that be with the partner, with the music, with the energy of the room, etc. – is a big concern. If there’s anything that I’m not feeling the vibe from it works against my desire to get on the floor. And I hate dancing uninspired. I don’t think it’s fair to myself or my partner to just go through the motions, even if it’s technically competent and musically attuned. It’s like something very simple Carlos Rivarola once said to me years ago which I have always tried to keep in mind: “It’s not just steps. You have to feel the dance.”

Partner #1 was someone who I had seen at tango events for years and who I always regarded as a very good dancer, but it wasn’t until recently that we were formally introduced. I remember having one dance with her a long time ago and it was terribly awkward, mostly my fault. But in my defense it was with a Beck song (yeah, Cellspace, back when it was still new). She excused herself citing knee issues, which may have been real or not but I never blamed her for ending it. Dancing with her now feels very solid. Her connection is unusually strong and present. There is a lot of upper body contact, even down to the abdominal area which is a little unusual for me although I’ve noticed several advanced followers / teachers connect that way in close embrace. The lessons I took with Mariana Dragone got me accustomed to having more of an open space below the sternum for a little more freedom of movement. That’s not to say any one style is superior. But with the increased body connection it makes me have to be that much more certain about my accuracy in terms of the energy I project and the way I follow her through her movements in order to accommodate a mark that I have led. In this sense I feel it was good practice and a very appropriate way to start off. Not to mention a pleasure. I often see her sitting at these prácticas and I don’t really know why that is, except that maybe she’s a little intimidating. On her own she can appear highly autonomous and perhaps even somewhat aloof although in my experience her nature has been very generous.

Partner #2 has been a tango buddy for a while now. I used to practice with her when she was pretty new to tango, having come from salsa. Now she’s a prominent organizer of milongas and events in the Bay Area. It’s always fun to dance with her, she projects a strong energy and likes to embellish a lot. I tried to accommodate her with some of the things she said she wanted to work on, but unfortunately they weren’t great strengths of mine. Ganchos and volcadas. Again, elements of which I have only a rudimentary working knowledge. You could call them rusty tools since I’ve studied them in various forms but just never use them and so they get sloppy with neglect or forgotten altogether. It’s good for me to attempt them again, though, because currently my vocabulary is very limited. Just enough for me to get by, really.

Partner #3 is Ms. Ambitious. Only dancing for a bit over a year or so but making crazy progress, and incredibly demanding both of herself and others. I have mentioned to her that I’m never really comfortable dancing with her because I know she’s striving for absolute perfection. It reminds me of the days when I would dance with one of my instructors but always tense up because I felt like I was constantly being evaluated. Part of it is in me as well, though. I, too, tend to be obsessive about detail and so when I get together with her that aspect of my personality gets amplified. The good thing about that is that my focus gets heightened and I pay more attention to things like posture, embrace, weight distribution and the like. The negative is the aforementioned tension, as well as a kind of self inflicted censorship since I’m focusing so much on ironing out very base elements, and also out of concern of not offending her with crude, undeveloped movements. One thing she said to me tonight which was very astute was that she sometimes felt like we weren’t really dancing with each other but almost as if we were dancing with someone over the other’s shoulder. Personally, I know I have developed a bad habit of dancing in the mirror sometimes, especially in a practice setting, and that is clearly a connection killer. Part of that habit comes from the days when I would assist in beginner classes and needed to see what the follower was doing so I could correct her. But I think most of it is narcissistic in a way, where I’m checking my own form and neglecting my partner in the process. Bad. I think I need to get better acquainted with the dance from the inside instead of the outside, at least as far as my partner is concerned. I can usually diagnose when I’m doing something that throws me off but with my partner I’m not as sensitive, either with something they aren’t doing optimally or with something I am doing improperly to them. Still, it was a good practice session and I always enjoy working with her. Although we did dance to music that I’m not a strong interpreter of. First with 60’s Pugliese (I have difficulty with the musical tension, the drama and rubato) and then with alternative stuff. Always good to work on problem areas, though.

To touch briefly on a topic that probably warrants further examination, the way prácticas tend to serve as informal milongas for a lot of people instead of a space for serious study kind of befuddles me. I happen to be one of those who actually likes the work part of developing my dance. So I’m not averse to doing drills or going over a movement over and over. This is something I picked up very early, when my first regular teacher would start each class with walks back and forth and then ochos back and forth. Then when I went to BsAs for the first time this discipline was further enhanced when I took some classes specifically on technique – 3 hours strictly on exercises. Later, when I visited a friend in Paris I saw how her ballet class was structured. It was pretty intense, the dancers going over a prescribed sequence over and over, stopping only to iron out very technical details. In fact, the classes for all the dances that I saw there were similarly technique oriented, and it struck me that to approach tango in a more casual way was to disrespect the dance, which is every bit as valid as an art form as any of these other classic dances. Then again, part of the greatness of tango is that it’s flexible enough to exist as both an informal recreational dance for casual aficionados and as a complex art that can stretch the limits of human possibility for those who choose to pursue the higher echelons of its expression.

Jumping on the loaded bandwagon

2007-11-05T17:51:00.000-03:00

4 nov. 2007: No tango tonight, the first free night in a while. Went to check out La Taza but they closed early due to low attendance. I caught them just before they all went home. We were trying to figure out what happened. Word of mouth has been good and people who have attended seemed to have been enthusiastic about the venue. It’s just as well, I guess my body could use the break. Like so many I know in the tango community, I haven’t been getting the kind of rest I should. Yesterday evening I was interviewed by a friend of mine who was working on a paper about tango, and he asked if I considered myself “obsessed.” My reply was that I didn’t really see it that way, even though I go to a milonga or práctica every night. Tango is just something I enjoy doing and being around. But it seems that I hear that a lot, about people who consider themselves “obsessed” or “addicted” or something along those lines. I wonder sometimes if it’s all just some sort of glorified self identification, as if calling oneself a “tango junkie” allows some of them to feel defined somehow as a part of some exclusive club, or that it supposedly speaks of their skill and/or potential. I wonder how long it will last for some of these people, how long before they burn out and to what degree they will recover. I’ve found that for me it goes in cycles. I have been through periods where I dropped it completely for months at a time. But of course I, like most people, always come back. And as long as I’ve been in tango I feel that now I am the most invested, the most driven I have ever been, by far. A big part of that is because at the moment I have the means to afford going out regularly. This is a definite luxury that I haven’t had for most of my time with the dance. Having been on that side of the fence I am well aware of how much of a privilege it is to be able to dance more than once a week. I guess it’s no surprise that many if not most of the people I usually see are well educated, well trained, and well employed. Sometimes I feel as if I’m mingling above my class (a Billy Joel in a room full of Christie Brinkleys). So many techies, doctors, architects, engineers, etc. Then there’s me, working class slacker without a title. No matter. I’ve never been in a situation where anyone has made an issue about it. And anyway tango doesn’t give a shit what your alma mater is or resume says.
So what else did I do today? Besides hauling a couple tons of concrete around (not tango related), I spent a lot of time constructing cortinas. Now here’s something it’s probably correct to say I get obsessed with. Once I start I want to turn just about everything in my iTunes library into a cortina. I was pretty diplomatic about it. Personally, I prefer long cortinas but for some functions people expect shorter ones, so I made both. Nothing less than 24 seconds, though. I’m just one of those folks who for whatever reason thinks the cortina should actually have a function more than just being a tiny interlude between tandas. I like it when they completely clear the floor. Call me old fashioned. Going back to the concrete, even though it wasn’t a tango thing, leave it to me to make it relate somehow. At the dump, as I was unloading the back of the truck I concentrated on using my core to generate a nice dissociation as I chucked the pieces into a big pile. I was winding up pretty good there, got some nice distance. Hopefully, that’ll help translate to some solid energy leading the ladies into the giros / molinetes (gently, of course).