My Tango Diaries

In the beginning (the very beginning, since it's going to be the beginning for a really long time), tango was like dessert. This wonderful sweet thing that gave me a little rush. Then it became food - like fuel. Tango (classes/practica/milongas) gave me energy. I could go for little while without it, but I'd start to feel tired and... we'll put it nicely, a little cranky. Soon, tango was like water. Constantly moving, flowing, finding new places - and I found myself thirsting for it. I couldn't go as long without it as I could before without getting restless, listless. After class today, I felt like I had just started breathing again. I had class *and* practica just yesterday . Now I have two more days until the next milonga. So has tango changed again for me? Is tango air? In other news, sometimes my writing about tango gets me into trouble. Well, not so much trouble as gets me into unrealistic expectations. I've met several people now that have read my blog and I&

Todo el mundo está esperando mejorar su situación; todos viven suspirando con razón o sin razón. Todo el mundo se lamenta si en las buenas ya no están; nadie aguanta la tormenta si la contra se le da. Everyone in the world is hoping to improve their situation; everyone lives with a sigh whether or not they have cause. Everyone in the world laments when things aren't going well; nobody stands in the storm if it comes against them straight. La vida es una milonga y hay que saberla bailar, que en la pista está sobrando el que pierde su compás. La vida es una milonga y hay que saberla bailar, por que es triste estar sentado mientras bailan los demás. Life is a milonga— you gotta dance to how it goes; it'll leave you behind on the floor if you're one to lose the beat. Life is a milonga— you gotta dance to how it goes, 'cause it's sad to be sitting down while the others dance on their feet.

Video from: MuyLindoTango Show - Olga y Daniele From Anne-Sophie and Josh's playlist at Saturday's milonga - Pantera tanguera. A few moments into this song, my partner and I whispered almost simultaneously - 'isn't this the theme from The Pink Panther?' It is, in fact the theme, built into a beautiful tango. This is one of my new favorite pieces.

More fears faced which led to more dancing than I ever thought I could do in one day. Classes, practica, milonga - all the way til the end. Eight hours. I danced with leaders I had been too intimidated to dance with before. And, I danced with my few familiar favorite leaders - from whom I not only learn so very much, but make me feel safe and comfortable in their embrace. I danced with new leaders I'd never met and learned more still. Of course I still stumbled, faltered, missed leads . . . apologized. I questioned my steps, my axis, my embrace . . . I had to be reminded to breathe, to collect my ankles, to shift weight... and again to breathe... But I never questioned what it was to be there and dance. As other tangueras noted, the pain doesn't really hit until you stop dancing. I was fine even through the car ride home. You can only delay the inevitable so long, though. I slept most of Sunday. The bottoms of my feet were bruised and blistered. I felt like I had weights tied

Classes, Lessons, Practicas and Milongas at Esquina Tango See all of the pictures (full size) at Flickr.com - Esquina Tango Photos

Washington D.C. tango instructors, Anne-Sophie Ville and Josh Rigley at Milonga De Laura, 4/18/09. See the rest of the pictures here: Anne-Sophie Ville and Josh Rigley at Milonga De Laura on Flickr

More bad news today. Reconnecting with friends, neighbors and loved ones over the past week, to find so many laid off, sick, . . . worried. We are all struggling these days to keep our lives, our families, and our jobs together. After sharing stories and circumstances with a co-worker that I said I was desparately looking forward to the milonga on Saturday. She asked me how on earth I could think about tango during times like these. During times like these, how can I not think about tango?

Finding videos on YouTube (which I must repeat - I never do at work, cross-my-heart *fingers-crossed*) that demonstrate what we learned in class , is almost as much fun as practicing the steps in the class itself. (Okay, not really, but it will have to do.) So, yesterday was all about giros - or turns. I found two great videos that not only demonstrate the sequence and variations - but also include additional text hints and guidance throughout. Video 1: Tango Argentino - Giros Tecnica 1 Video 2: Tango Argentino - Giros Tecnica 2 The above demonstrations are not to be confused with this silliness below, which, although it shows technical prowess, would likely lead to your follower getting dizzy and falling down.

For some of you this is old news - but when I stumbled across it on YouTube (which I certainly wasn't looking at while I was at work, how dare you make such an accusation!), I thought it was one of the most clever short tango films I'd seen. These are the students of FriniTango in Chania/ Crete / Greece performing in the "MAQUILLAJE" tango. Not only is the film well edited to combine the lyrics, music and dancing - they even made a "blooper reel" making-of video to show the highlights of production. The Blooper/Making of Video: The lyrics for Maquillaje: No... ni es cielo ni es azul, ni es cierto tu candor, ni al fin tu juventud. Tu compras el carmin y el pote de rubor que tiembla en tus mejillas, y ojeras con verdin para llenar de amor tu mascara de arcilla. Tu, que timida y fatal te arreglas el dolor después de sollozar, sabras como te ame, un día al despertar sin fe ni maquillaje... - Ya lista para el viaje que desciende hasta el color final - Mentiras..

"Because I have no answers to my questions, I tango. I tango because I have to move in the midst of these uncertainties. . . . " Tango and the Political Economy of Passion, Savigliano There is something going on, but I don't know what. Everything makes me want to cry. Happy things, sad things, irrelevant things. Maybe it's hormones. Maybe it's lack of sleep. Maybe it's both. All I know is that I'm becoming increasingly self conscious - expending extra effort to keep the world at bay while I work this, whatever it is, out. I find comfort in tango as usual in dancing, in listening, in watching. Breathe in. Breathe out. Tango. se llama tango y nada más. I come home from practicas and milongas tired - the good tired of exertion and excitement wearing off. Not the tired-to-my-bones sort of weary that I am throughout most of the day. I am tired. Maybe that's all that this is. Tired of lab tests that give me the whats but not the whys. Tired of battling insu

This is a project that's been coming together for about 3 months now as I've begun gathering stories from dancers and teachers about the effect that Argentine tango has on their bodies and minds. I wasn't sure how to approach this at first - should I start with the harder research side and start pouring over study abstracts - or should I start on the milonga floor? Since my story started on the milonga floor - I thought I'd start the project there as well. So I started talking to people, asking dancers and teachers about their experiences - and the experiences of people they know. Most of us would readily accept the idea that dancing (almost any kind of dancing) feels good - as though our bodies are meant to dance. We feel better when we exercise - when we're active, listening to music, spending time with our friends - all of these are things we know we need on a fundamental level. Argentine tango, though, for some, has an effect beyond that. For those of us who are

I don't think this gentleman counts as a milonguero, he's a little on the young side - though he certainly had that look about it him - the suit, the shoes, the expression on his face - though I can't really explain that last thing. He was my first partner at my first milonga at a venue I'd never visited. I had been tapping my foot and swaying a bit to the music while waiting for my yerba mate at the bar (I don't remember the song now, but it's one I have at home so it was very familiar). So maybe I looked more advanced than the ultra-beginner that I am. Afterall, I've been listening to tango music for 6 years. I have a sense of that - I don't so much have a sense of moving my body and feet, coordinated with another person, and to the music. Anyway. The gentleman asks me to dance. I explain I'm a very new to tango - a beginner. He laughs and says, "so what, so am I!" My turn to laugh (since I'd seen him at several milongas - enough to k

1. Being the least experienced dancer in class. (I missed the 1st two classes.) check. 2. Being the last person picked as a partner (in the same class as above. No one wanted to dance with the absolute beginner.) check. 3. Being the worst dancer at a milonga. The mix is different at every milonga. Sometimes there are other beginners (from your class for example) and sometimes you're the only beginner there. That was this past Friday night, actually. Very rough. check. 4. Being dropped after the 1st song in a tanda because you can't keep up with the leader. check. 5. Being dropped after the 2nd song in a tanda because you can't keep up with the leader. (Does that mean I'm getting better?) check. 6. Going to milongas by myself - which is every time. It's nerve-racking each time it's a new venue, and then I'm over it. check. If I'd known in advance that I'd go through all of those (except no. 6 which I already knew) - I would probably never have started

UPDATE: I got an email from someone who was there and she told me I shouldn't feel so bad about my leading performance. So, on her suggestion, I upgraded it to "not so great actually" from the previous title. Last Tuesday, as there was the usual shortage of men in my beginner tango class, I had to (attempt to) lead. I've been (well, you could call it) dancing tango about 2 months. I can barely follow, but it would be good to see a bit of the other side, right? Right. My partner looked irritated. She seemed irritated that there weren't enough men in the class and she was going to be lead by a woman. She also seemed irritated that we were all (well, mostly all) truly beginners, while she was more intermediate. The class was too slow. I tried not to be intimidated, thought about how I liked/disliked different aspects of being led, and tried to go forward from there. Well, not so much forward, as shifting weight side to side. Was she with me? uh..no.. hmm.. Maybe she

"A flower doesn't turn toward the sun because it needs to, but because it wants to, and so the process is effortless and joyful. All things considered, Mari, what do you WANT? The Universe" A little while ago I subscribed to a daily message (and I usually hate that sort of thing) from www.tut.com - Messages from the Universe. Mostly they're good - sometimes they're great, a few times they've been right on the money, as it were. I just wanted to share today's message. Tango may not be effortless - even turning to it when I'm completely worn out feels like work sometimes - but it is joyful, and I do want to - every time. It does, at least once a night that I go, feel like turning toward the sun.

Intermediate student to me (a beginning student, of course, at practica): wow, that's a really cool thing you do with your hips. Me: Pardon? Him: That thing, with the ochos and your hips. Me: Um... I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be doing that. (Trying to remember what I was doing. Also trying to remember fix my posture, maintain my axis, pull in my center, keep my feet on the floor, and the 100 other things I'm supposed to be doing during ochos - that don't include whatever it was I was doing with my hips.) Him: It wasn't a bad thing. Me: *snicker* It's leftover from belly dancing I think. (At least that's what I'm going to tell myself, since I don't have a clue what the heck I was doing.)

It was bound to happen. Especially after an hour tango class, another hour practicing and watching the intermediate class, and then 2 hours of practica. Fast forward through dinner and short nap, to milonga the same night. I managed to dance in the endorphin buzz until just about midnight. And then Piazzolla. *sigh* I was too tired, and I knew it. But I couldn't resist Piazzolla - plus I would be dancing with one of my instructors, so I knew I was in good hands. All of perhaps 8 steps into the dance, my body just stopped . I tried to pivot, swivel for an ocho - and just couldn't. I locked up. At first, since there wasn't any pain, I was just bewildered, tried to keep going and walk it out. But anything that involved turning my hips just wouldn't happen. Frustrated, I made it through the one song, apologized profusely to my very patient (and probably somewhat confused) instructor, and made it back to my chair. As soon as I sat down, ironcially, the pain started. I wa

Hours, please be kind to me today Pass by quickly, let my mind drift away . . . Sweet Hours, Beth Rowley Friday morning and I'm passing time... waiting... I'm tired, disconnected, just waiting to be done with work. I make small circles with my foot while waiting for the elevator because I like the whispering sound my shoes make on the floor. It reminds me of the milonga. And it feels good to move. I needed the video from Gotan Project, Santa Maria (Del Buen Ayre) to get me going this morning, not so much for the music itself (even though it is one I like) - but because the video seems to depict tango breaking out all over the city - in office buildings, street corners - anywhere. The idea is just lovely, while I wait for the hours to pass by.

It is of course possible to dance a prayer. ~Glade Byron Addams I got out to class last night. My first time at Uptown Dance Studio, which has the benefit of being close to me, but doesn't have the warmth that Esquina Tango does. Still. I needed to dance. I sat watching West Coast Swing, killing time before my class started, when I heard Gardel on the other side of the curtain. I don't even remember which song - I couldn't hear it that well (the huge dance floor is separated into "rooms" by curtains) - but it was Gardel. I relaxed. I hadn't danced a single step and I was already feeling better. Of course once we all got started in our beginner class with Monica , I was so relieved I'd made it out. I left feeling like I could cope with everything so much better. If I can dance, I can weather anything (in my case even the weather - more hail this morning!) Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to go. Tango keeps me in the moment, keeps me from always t

The milonga Saturday, during Austin Spring Tango Festival, was absolutely beautiful. The performances were extraordinary, inspiring. I got to spend some quality catch-up time with my favorite diva girl friend. A beautiful night. But in the midst of old friends, wonderful dancing and dancers, I got a call about my mom. I had not known until that moment how sick she was - no one had told me. I suspected there was more information I was being protected from, but I really had no idea. For me everything has stopped - the music, the dancing, everything - while I get my bearings. I have tango class tonight and I have to go. If I don't go tonight, I'm afraid I won't go again. And I'm going to need the music and tango to hold it all together. I read more and more about the healing power of Argentine tango on sites like this one: Tango Health on Tango Connections http://tangoconnections.ning.com/group/tangohealth , and I'm inspired. Even my dreams tell me to go. I dreamt I l