My Tango Diaries

“Flow is a harmonious experience where mind and body are working together effortlessly, leaving the person feeling that something special has just occurred…This is because flow lifts experience from the ordinary to the optimal, and it is in those moments that we feel truly alive and in tune with what we are doing.” - Susan A. Jackson and Mihaly Csikzentmihalyi, from Joy in Motion Ever since I wrote about flow on the dance floor , I've gotten emails asking me to explain what I meant by it - to elaborate further on what one type of music has related to another. It's been a bit of a mess trying to explain this well, but here goes. I have what I think sounds like a simple idea - but for something so simple at first blush, it's gotten pretty complicated to try to articulate. So please be patient while I tug at the threads of this and see if I can unravel the thoughts in my head. I'm limited in my musical vocabulary, so there are some terms I might not be using correctly - o...

Flow Watching videos of some milongas in Buenos Aires is mesmerizing for me. The music and dancing are beautiful generally, but, especially with some of the more crowded traditional milongas, if the camera angle is just right, you can see the mass of people moving counter-clockwise as one flowing, beautiful, multi-legged organism. Each couple is doing something different, but they are within the music together, with the rest of the floor. Some dancers call this "flow". When you've felt it on the dance floor, there's nothing else like it. It requires a high level of floorcraft and a certain willingness to not stand out - if that makes sense. Within the flow, my partner and I can relax a little, be soothed by the music, each other, and the mass of bodies around us. It's deeply moving, almost meditative. Blissful. Soothing on an almost cellular level. That is the milonga experience I crave and it's so rare. I hear it's rare pretty much everywhere outside of...

Often reprinted and quoted, so forgive the lack of originality in this post. Before I ever danced tango, I listened to this. It was Piazzolla that started my high-heeled journey. So every once in awhile I put the music on again, and re-read these liner notes. Strip to your underwear if you're not in black tie. Get obscene if you want, but never casual. You feel an urge? Touch its pain, wrap yourself around it. Don't put on airs. What you seem must be what you are, and what you are is a mess, honey, but that's okay, as long as you wear it inside. Look sharp! Don't slouch. See anyone slouching here? Stay poised, taut, on guard. Listen to your nerves. It's zero hour. Anxiety encroaches, wave after wave, with every squeeze of the bandoneon. Already twisted by the contraposto of uprightness and savagery, this new tango turns the screw even tighter with its jazz dissonances and truncated phrasings. No relief. No quarter. At zero hour only passion can save you. Time is flo...

One of my very favorite guitarists playing one of my favorite pieces of music. Can't think of a better way to start what will be a very long day.

Lyrics: Me acuerdo, fue en Balvanera, en una noche lejana, que alguien dejó caer el nombre de un tal Jacinto Chiclana. Algo se dijo también de una esquina y un cuchillo. Los años no dejan ver el entrevero y el brillo. ¡Quién sabe por qué razón me anda buscando ese nombre! Me gustaría saber cómo habrá sido aquel hombre. Alto lo veo y cabal, con el alma comedida; capaz de no alzar la voz y de jugarse la vida. (Recitado) Nadie con paso más firme habrá pisado la tierra. Nadie habrá habido como él en el amor y en la guerra. Sobre la huerta y el patio las torres de Balvanera y aquella muerte casual en una esquina cualquiera. No veo los rasgos. Veo, Bajo el farol amarillo, El choque de hombres o sombras Y esa víbora, el cuchillo. Acaso en aquel momento En que le entraba la herida, Pensó que a un varón le cuadra No demorar la partida. Sólo Dios puede saber la laya fiel de aquel hombre. Señores, yo estoy cantando lo que se cifra en el nombre. Entre las cosas hay una De la que no se arrepiente N...

My thoughts of tango go back to 2002 when I dreamt of tango... well, more of a conversation about tango. That's not precisely right either. I dreamt that I was walking home from work (I worked only about a mile from my apartment) when I was joined by a man I'll just call "the Librarian." I had known the Librarian since 1999, and so it was not unusual for him to occasionally end up in one my dreams. We got about half way to the apartment when we passed a small park with tree-covered patio. This park had never been on my way home before, but it was a dream and these things happen in dreams. The Librarian and I walked over to the patio and saw that people were dancing - dancing tango specifically. The music was the saddest, most beautiful piece of music I had heard to that point in my life. (And I listen to opera, it should be noted, so my collection of sad music is substantial.) I was hearing Astor Piazzola's Milonga Del Angel which I had probably heard earlier in t...