Si soy así,
¿qué voy a hacer?
Nací buen mozo
y embalao para querer.
Si soy así
¿qué voy a hacer?
Con las mujeres
no me puedo contener.
Por eso tengo
la esperanza que algún día
me toqués la sinfonía
de que ha muerto tu ilusión.
Si soy así
¿qué voy a hacer?
Es el destino
que me arrastra a serte infiel.

Donde veo unas polleras
no me fijo en el color…
Las viuditas, las casadas y solteras
para mí todas son peras
en el árbol del amor.
Y si las miro coqueteando por la calle
con sus ojos tan porteños y su talle cimbreador,
le acomodo el camouflage
de un piropo de mi flor.

Si soy así
¿qué voy a hacer?
Pa’ mí la vida
tiene forma de mujer.
Si soy así,
¿qué voy a hacer?
Es Juan Tenorio
que hoy ha vuelto a renacer.
Por eso, nena,
no sufrás por este loco
que no asienta más el coco
y olvidá tu metejón.
Si soy así,
¿qué voy a hacer?
Tengo una esponja
donde el cuore hay que tener.

Watching amazing dancers on the dance floor can have several effects. One of them is to make you realize how much you still have to learn, practice and internalize. On the other hand, it is very easy to be blown away and feel bad about sharing a dance floor doing your own thing, cumbersome in comparison. You feel limited by your abilities and less able to give another great dancer a great time.

As a leader, no matter whatever other might say, I always feel guilty about a less good dance. A missed connection, literally. One thing I’ve been dealing with is also to realize that a lot of great dancers on the dance floor are professionals. I want to dance better and better but it is also important to keep things a bit in perspective.

While this frustration may be very hard on you on the spot, at the milonga, it is also a source of energy to work hard and let go of less good feelings afterwards. We need to enjoy the journey.

No matter how much you know that you shouldn’t be affected, sharing a dance floor with people doing beautiful open moves can be tough. Yes, we want to think that is all about musicality, small and beautiful. But it still gets to you. And you want to be able to do it.

Maybe to not do it so much afterwards?

Today I got a thank you in the middle of a tanda. That was good to tame the ego. Far too high lately.

Mostly walking…

Some of my friends keep telling me, when I ask about their tango, that they haven’t had an amazing dance for a long time now. Women. I always wonder about this. I still remember one amazing dance that I had when I was even more padawan. It was everything people normally mention and more.

But the thing is, I’m constantly having a great time out there. I can honestly count with one hand the nights that I’d rather forget. I can always remember something cool about a dance or having fun while dancing with my friends. I do not enter a milonga looking for the magical tanda or dance. I honestly don’t. Come to think of it, I haven’t really put much thought into as to what I think when I enter a milonga venue. I guess I feel the place, the vibe of who’s there and look more or less forward to dancing with who I see.

I don’t practice to get tango highs. I practice because I’m actually having fun by challenging myself and improving with dance partners. I do practice to better express tango the way I feel that tanda or day. I’ve found that being overly self-conscious doesn’t help so I’ve been looking more forward to improving rather than worrying about plateaus or current stages.

I wonder if I should be looking for the tango bliss more.

Recently someone commented on my dancing: “Your upper body does something and your legs do another”.

I’m still trying to figure out if it was a compliment or what. I do know what she means (!) but I also know why I do it and why I love doing it…

Learning tango is like Port Wine. The longer you age it inside the better and more refined it becomes.

I’m going through a lot of tango blog posts. I’ve been more worried about work and dancing than actually writing about it. Going through those posts, I found Sorin’s post about being rudely denied a dance. I mean, yes, it was honest. I’d rather have that than this (I haven’t invited her again). She was brutally honest. She spoke what she felt. I’d rather believe she respects you by telling you the truth than saying her feet hurt or whatever lame excuse you’ve heard before.

I find funny why people expect tango communities to be overly friendly. I mean, just look at the profiles of people that constitute them. Normally, they’re full of all-round ambitious persons that have devoted a lot of time and dedication to the dance. A lot of them have learned about the history, the music and spent countless hours thinking about technique and built their own philosophy to approach the dance. I’d rather have one great dance with someone every month than so so dances weekly. I mean it. I’m not saying you should expect rudeness, but you should not expect fairy-tale behavior from anyone.

One of the biggest attractions of tango to me is getting close to my native background while being in US. I am originally from a country where people speak a lot more from the heart, less chit chat and even less bothering endeavors such as being “nice” or “pleasant” on demand. I expect people to be sincere to me at a milonga and I’d rather have someone tell me I suck to them than pity dances. I also expect any follower that dances with me to be in the right mindset. When one dances, one should put toda la carne en el assador.

Una Milonguera has a nice post about what (most I would risk) people are looking for in tango: El Abrazo perfecto. The perfect embrace (click here for the google translation from spanish).

Somehow this echoed back into my personal life, non-tango related. Well, we actually had some tango lessons together… I’ve had the experience of the perfect embrace. The non-tango one that is. This cartoon describes a bit what it was like and the last bit how I felt about it for a while. It’s over and I’ve moved on (or so I want to convince myself):

But I fully understand and realize what the original post is about. It’s that special connection, that moment when you embrace someone and everything around you disappears and there’s no more steps/moves/thoughts. There’s a flow. A perfect flow, pressure free of having to show off or remember to stay straight. I haven’t had had un abraco perfecto right at the beginning of the music. I’ve had embraces that build and reveal themselves over a tanda. A couple were memorable. I still remember them.

The most profound aspect of the post though is how you can make parallels between the embrace psyche in tango and with everyone’s life in general. I know there’s no meaning to life besides Tango but we also love. Deeply. Inside and outside Tango’s walls. The hope of the perfect tanda embrace keeps us going back and back just like we go back to find that someone special after we fail. We all know that it is out there waiting to be savored. We’ve all had glimpses of it. We feed off glimpses, maybes and the concept of the existence of the perfect union between two human beings. Embraced.

Un grande abrazo para vos.

Why do some followers accept to dance with someone if they’re not really interested in dancing with that person? Is it even enjoyable for them?

I finished the tanda but I believe next time I won’t.

The follower I desired to dance with a while ago doesn’t captivate me as much now. I remember how her smile and apparent pleasure in the dance would make me desire to be able bold to dance with her. Several months after and a Denver festival on top, I am no longer afraid to invite her. I haven’t seen her in a while until recently in a milonga but was dancing mostly with friends I wanted to dance with.

Then a common friend and leader told me that I absolutely needed to dance with her. For him, she was at the top of the dancers in that milonga. She left before I could ask her. Then I realized that the fear was gone and had instead been replaced by curiosity. Tango can be funny…

(image from here)

At the beginning it felt good. A friendly follower kept praising that I was a nice dancer, different than others. Then she asked me who I took classes with and now I am the professor’s students. She keeps on telling me how I dance nicely like the others that also take classes from the same teacher. I guess she’s saying that we don’t push women around, we listen to the music and strive for a good connection.

I don’t mind people praising me and my friends for dancing like how a professor advocates for. That’s all good. In fact, everyone choses their professors according to what they find is beautiful from an aesthetic point of view and how and what each professor focus on. But still, I feel like a copycat. I feel like a product.

I’ve always been into subtleties and surprises. It is if of no surprise then that I normally enjoy more dancing with followers that enjoy the pauses and musically driven movements in our share of tile. I take great pleasure in finding how honest and real the connection is, how much both of us are in sync. I’m a fan of less is more. Lately, I’ve been finding that I must lack the ability to transmit confidence and serenity to my followers. They often ask me what they should have done or they should do while I am pausing. Some have even confessed that sometimes they feel awkward because they’re afraid of not being able to follow what I am trying to lead. In reality, I’m just pausing for a bit.

That has got me thinking for a while. Either I am not dancing with followers that enjoy some pausing or slower movements – which are notoriously harder because they actually require both dancers to have good balance and grounding – or I am lacking the skills to convey confidence and the feeling of just enjoying the pause or slower movement. I believe it’s more of the latter and I have been trying to find how I can improve it. A lot of it is a mental mindset. Some friends tell me I can lead them much better after the Denver festival, noticing an improved sense of confidence and certainty in the movements. That, though, is not enough to convey calm and serenity in slower movements and pauses. I know practice will help but does anyone have insights on this?

Here’s a video of two dancers I admire. A while ago I took a milonga workshop with them. Clearly above what I danced then, it was nevertheless useful. They are dancing an exquisitely slow dance that looks (to me) beautiful. Enjoy it!

that finds most normal/traditional nuevo musics boring to no end? I have a hard time getting motivated to dance to it.

This post by Johanna is great. I would only digress by stating that not all professionals look sterile. In fact, those are the professionals that I personally admire for many reasons, the main one being that they have not fallen into the “technique trap“. This trap consists in your technique being so good that by that alone you are a very good dancer and are able to become a professional dancer. I definitely do admire professionals that avoid this trap by also putting their heart into the music and that I truly believe are interpreting the music with their heart every-time they dance.

That said, I agree with a lot of what Johanna says. It’s beautiful to see a couple dance and observe the two of them discovering new dimensions of the dance, smiling or looking really surprised. You get a glimpse of someone else’s tango journey.

I decided to write this post because I am feeling kind of sad lately. Maybe it’s post-denver blues or just (I hope) temporary sheer lack of inspiration. Nothing is coming out fluidly as it was and I am feeling deeply repetitive and unoriginal. I have been feeling comfortable in my knowledge zone and avoiding a bit venturing outside and feeling the frustrating pain of failing at new stuff…

I will force myself to make mistakes and struggle for newer ways of doing things. I need to recover the joy of closing my eyes and inventing new moves. Then find a willing follower of my new attitude :-) easier said than done…

(La Tanguera has rightfully corrected my previous version of this post. See also her post here about it)

If you want to use the word, use it correctly. Please. I’ve seen all kinds of crazy variations of it and I don’t understand why. And I’m talking about reading it in teacher’s websites/blogs and other places where it is not really acceptable to have such mistakes. It’s not so hard to write it correctly at all.

Another aspect that has always puzzled me has been how people see it as a novelty. As Igor Polk mentions here, it’s something normally usual between friends. I come from a culture where half of the conversation involves our eyes and facial expressions. Also, more can be said in silence between words and laughs than by blabbing out every single word/idea in our mind. For me it’s very normal to use it. In fact, I’d rather not move at all from where I am standing or sitting to know if I’m welcome to dance with anyone than not. I cannot see why anyone would rather not use it…

Everytime I close my eyes I imagine myself dancing tango. I smile and a sense of bliss comes to me.

I imagine myself being good enough to lead a follower that I could not get my eyes out of on the dance floor. Is this a tango dancer crush? I didn’t dance with her. Maybe in some months I will see her again.

She also leads. When I close my eyes I imagine we dancing a tanda where we exchange leading and following (I love to follow too). A blurry 20 seconds role exchange after each music, giving the leader of the song enough time to feel the music. I imagine we closing eyes in turns and just smiling at the mutual pleasure of both roles in a dance. Of sharing with each other the roles interpretations. Of getting really intimate in the dance.

We actually introduced ourselves to each other early in the festival but after I saw her dance I was never bold enough to venture. I took the platonic route. That keeps alive the dream of a dance. There’s only one way to keep alive a platonic tango crush. And it helps if we go unnoticed :-)

Dancing tango can be dangerous. The feelings it creates are so strong…

ModernTanguera (MT) has a post concerning a Pugliese Tanda. She details what she considers essential for her enjoyment. I don’t know about people that don’t like dancing to Pugliese. I’m sure there are but I just can’t not dance to it. It’s traditionally considered a special tanda and people tend to save it for their most special person.

What I need to have a follower be able to do to enjoy a Pugliese tanda:

• Balance and lots of it. I need great control over the timming of a walk, side, etc. Throwing me out of balance will make it impossible
• Musicality. It takes two to tango. If I’m the only one interpreting the music, the experience doesn’t work that well. I’ll give you all the time in the world… I expect you to take advantage of it !
• Sharp with picking up the mood and big changes of rhythm.
• Knowledge and control of a floating axis

I had a tanda of Pugliese last weekend with a follower that is a better dancer. It was amazing. I could fully and reciprocally express my musical interpretation. We were very happy at the end but I’m sure she’s had better Puglieses. I’m gonna keep trying to take my Pugliese interpretations further and further…

I am deeply in love by Pugliese’s music. Dynamic, rhythmic, full of suprises. It breathes the essence of what Tango really is. Inside and outside the milonga event.

Tango is a way of life, not taking some classes with the currently famous dancers and living like a gringo for some weeks in a different country.

Someone is putting some sense in the nonsense that has been going on for the last days (concerning nuevo dancers)!

There is nothing inherently wrong with nuevo. However, its culture is different from the culture of contemporary Argentine social tango. There is nothing wrong in separating them into different niches, i.e., separate events. Each can have its own atmosphere. Dancers can attend these different events and respect the environment intended by the event organizer. Just as they do in Buenos Aires. Some people may go to both types of events, adapting their dance to the environment they are entering. Doing this respects the unique characteristics of both and allows each its environment to flourish. It reduces the conflict between people who have different interpretations of tango.

Ron in Tango-L.

The more I go to milongas, the better I can see and appreciate a good social milonga floor craft. This means that I’ve started cringing when I see people switching back and forth between lanes, overtaking, and making everyone else in the dance floor cautious about getting hurt. Truth be told, I may even not dance if two or more couples of kamikazes are on the dance floor. It’s just not worth it.

I’ve been reading a bit on blogs about how you behave and respect others on the dance floor. This of course implies that you can dance small and are mindful of everyone else in the floor. I see a lot of debate about what makes a great dance which always include, obviously, how you approach and dance with your partner. You need to put your heart in it. I don’t – at least as prominently – see people talking also about how social dancing implies everyone else on the dance floor. It is totally different to dance in a smaller setting where you are totally relaxed, not worried about anyone hitting you or being less mindful and a more guerrilla dance floor where you want to have a great dance but you know some kamikaze may ruin it.

I get joy of respecting and sharing the same floor in a respectful manner with other dancers. They are my tango friends and peers. Why isn’t this respect more widespread and why isn’t tango culture doing a better job at cultivating the joy of a shared experience? It is real.

During a milonga, dancers on the floor tend to follow a bell-shaped curve. This means that at the peak time, there’s very few space for each couple on the dance floor. My ability to drive around the dance floor is still improving and I feel that my most common “mistake” (or less considerate action) is to not occupy the space left ahead of me as quickly as I should. Happens more often if I’m having a blast and doing very small and simple stuff on the spot. :)

But I’d like to bring your attention – and help – to another matter. Sometimes, I will get a couple that is right on top of me, just behind me. As in, 1 inch. I like to keep a small space between me and the next couple. Enough for him to setup a giro, 1-2 small steps, etc. At yesterday’s milonga, for a couple of times, the couple behind me was just right next to me, giving me virtually no space. Is this normal? What’s the best way to cope with this?

I have a passion about human nature, both in a social context and as an individual. Most of my attention span is almost always a bit split between what I am doing and observing others. It’s a passion. I love to see how different people react and how that fuels the building of social texture that we all share.

While going through some older posts of some tango blogs in my news reader, I ran across this post in Mark’s blog. It bridges current scientific knowledge about performance at high levels and how it can be applied to the tango world. Broadly speaking, it applies to every activity really. The bottom line is that perseverance in pursuing your defined goals will pay off. It is interesting to stress the – now famous – expression called deliberate practice. Here’s a rough explanation from here:

The best people in any field are those who devote the most hours to what the researchers call “deliberate practice.” It’s activity that’s explicitly intended to improve performance, that reaches for objectives just beyond one’s level of competence, provides feedback on results and involves high levels of repetition.

Mark did a great job of summarizing a lot of Anders Ericsson’s work and translating it Tango (for fun, also read this articles by Steven and Stephen). After reading Mark’s post and some original research papers (I am geek, I’m sorry) I immediately looked into what has been my experience as a tango dancer. First and foremost, I have not deliberately practiced as often as I should have. In class or practicas, it’s easy to default to things you already know and just enjoy it along with the music. This is easier said than done because sometimes absolutely beginners make puppy eyes and you can’t escape dancing with them. Also, getting a serious dance partner would probably help a lot at this stage.

On the other hand, it got me thinking as to why some people don’t have a serious drive to improve. Roughly half of the persons in my community aren’t seriously into technique. When talking about professors, most of them say that my teacher moves too slowly for them. I agree. Too slowly in giving you moves. But the professor makes you realize how you can’t even properly do simple things with absolute control. It requires a lot of technique and not guesswork. It requires countless times of trying it out and thinking hard about what makes what you’re trying to do work.

I have come to realize over many years of different physical activities that technique is important from a physical point of view but also from a mental one. Normally, people think of technique as a mere physical outcome. The more technically talented persons I know, the more I have found that they have deeply pondered about ideas, concepts and surrounding affairs concerning what they excel at. Concerning tango, they’re not amazing dancing robots. They have developed their own ideas through countless hours of practice and discussions with others. They’ve tried different approaches and conceptualized ideas that they are willing to share with others. That is, in essence, one of the reasons that keep persons motivated and actually deliberately practicing. By constantly assessing where you are, where you want to go and how to reach it – by thinking hard about it – you are always creating new goals to achieve. Newer pieces of the puzzle that make perfect sense.

My naive observation at this time is that communities tend to create subgroups of persons depending on how they see and live Tango. It is my wish that the technique focused ones will grow at a faster rate than the others. :-)

When followers compliment me, usually it’s my musicality. I play and hear a lot of music so I thought that would be normal. However, honestly, I always thought that was a way to say something positive since my technique clearly is lacking in most areas. I believe in respecting everyone’s feelings and in a social setting like a milonga, I don’t care about mistakes or not doing it perfectly. I care about having a great moment while dancing with a person.

But, “musical” is good and I proud myself of that. And honestly, you don’t need crazy technique to have a wonderful dance. You just need two persons opening their heart for some musics or a whole tanda. I decided to tell this story because while reading this post by sallycat I remembered how important it is to dance with your heart open. And that’s what I learned at my last milonga.

A follower I know went to dance with a leader she considers amazing – he looks amazing to me too – and the person sitting next to him was a follower I had never danced with. I decided, why not? She looks friendly and I should capitalize whenever I feel like dancing with a new person. She seemed very humble and happy to dance a bit more before the milonga was over. I didn’t feel any of the “so, are you that good to invite me?” vibe or the more usual “ok, let’s dance, I’d rather dance than just be sitting I guess…” vibe.

At the beginning of the dance I told her that I was a beginner. I know I shouldn’t have: it’s too much information. But I immediately felt we had an open channel of truth and she just smiled at me. I danced very slowly, very simple and just trying to get to know her, how she moves and how we were connecting. We only moved around half the room. Simple, slow movements, with the music. On the second music I felt we were connected and in sync right from the start and I danced with my heart. I moved like I felt like and only did things that my body knows by now how to do them on its own. Things I’ve practiced enough times to be confident enough to play with their timing. Simple things of course, I’m a beginner.

It was clear to me that she was enjoying the simple moves, the slow turns, the pauses. At a point in the music, we stayed together for about 10 to 20 seconds, just feeling the music, the pause in movement, the moment that made that dance magic and unique. We moved a quarter of the room. When the music ended she said “You’re not a beginner“. I smiled back.