My Tango Diaries

I have had three private lessons in the last month, from four different teachers (one lesson was with a couple - which I highly recommend.) Each lesson gave me tremendous insight into my posture, my body, and my dance. Of course now every time I dance I think too much. Shoulders down. Lower elbow. Tummy in. Relax hips. Walk on the inside of my foot. Lead with my big toe. Drop my hip. Bend knees. Relax shoulder blades. Don't lean back. Cross deeper to make more room. Be more compact. Relax and breathe... relax ... relax ... relax Saturday night I tried to put it all into motion. So many things to remember at once. I was so tired after lessons during the day - and still sore from the milonga the night before. I bandaged my toes and braced my knee, took some advil and headed out. I had to go dancing. I had to work the new information into my muscles while it was still fresh. I made it til midnight. Not bad for the shape I was in. Was I any better? I don't really know. I felt bette...

Apparently the subject of head position came up in a recent class. How do I know - since I wasn't in the class? The same way I find out everything else that happens in the most recent classes and/or workshops - someone instucts me on the milonga floor. Surprisingly, the position of my head had never bothered this particular partner before (we've been dancing together for over 5 months) but because it was addressed in class, it was now an issue. Fine. Something else for me to be terribly self-conscious about. Have been looking bad all this time? I normally dance with my head facing over my partner's shoulder, usually slight downward (depending on the height of my leader). Like this (that's actually me in the picture): Apparently, it's more graceful and appealing to dance like this (from Tangoandcoffee.org): I can definitely see the difference - it looks like a more confortable alignment for this couple. I'm trying it out more and more - but it simply doesn't ...

I have taken professional classes in all manner of topics - writing, photography, cooking, makeup artistry - tons. I've left those classes feeling secure in my knowledge, even victorious over mastering some new skill. Tango classes aren't really like that. When you leave tango workshops, you generally have a grocery list of new things you get to work on, new areas where you now know that you're weak. In apilado class, we covered a style I've been wanting to learn very badly - but enthusiasm will only take you so far. Then you have to get to work. And work hard. I still pulled my shoulders back. I still wasn't bending my knees enough or extended my leg back far enough - or rather starting the motion where it was supposed to start, much higher up. And if I worked on one part, I stopped working on others - like keeping my ankles together. In apilado position, you become much more aware of your comfort and that of your partner. You're suddenly aware of how tall yo...

Those of you readers who are also on Tango Connections may have seen my post about abrazo apilado asking if the apilado embrace was widely used in different communities. Locally, tango salon is more widely danced than either milonguero or apilado (though the line between milonguero and apilado can be blurry.) Though it's rare, when I have had the opportunity to be led in that style, I really enjoyed the embrace and the musicality of it. So, fast forward to yesterday when I get an email announcing that Daniela Arcuri is going to be teaching a class on Tango Apilado on Saturday. What are the chances??? I can't believe my luck! Not only will I get to learn and practice the technique, but I'll get to see who else has an interest in that style! You can see another example of apilado style with Tete Rusconi here and a video here .

An update on "Dancing through the scariest things in tango" Before you start reading this, commit to reading it to the end. I'm writing the bad news first and the good news at the end. But I'll give a preview to the good news - Dancing tango is worth every bit of it. Here's the original list from April 13th, 2009 1. Being the least experienced dancer in class. (I missed the first two classes.) 2. Being the last person picked as a partner (in the same class as above. No one wanted to dance with the absolute beginner.) 3. Being the worst (least experienced) 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. Very rough but worth going! 4. Being dropped after the 1st song in a tanda because you can't keep up with the leader. 5. Being dropped after the 2nd song in a tanda because you can't keep up with the leader. (Does that mean I'm ...

I seem to be developing a pattern. Take class or a private. Work on something and start to see some improvement. Find out something else has started to suffer. Multitasking has never been my strength. For example, my instructors were able to help me work on breaking the habit of pulling my shoulders back away from my partner. But then I found I was using my hip (and collapsing my torso) to complete giros - especially when I got tired. When did I start doing that? Have I been doing it all along? When I focus on my musicality, my posture slips. When I strengthen my core, direct my energy - suddenly I'm walking on the outer portion of feet (and looking rather pigeon-toed.) Same answer as always, I know. Keep getting feedback and keep practising, practising, practising. (Special note to leaders reading this - please read the post all the way to the end.) In other news, I found out that lately there have been more workshops and classes on volcadas, ganchos and boleos. Unfortunately for ...

Great video posted on Tango Connections' ( tangoconnections.ning.com ) Tango Health Group and more exercises . . .

"I recall avoiding my own gaze for many, many years. It was somehow creepy, and this look-alike stranger returning my stare made me feel very uncomfortable. There was an aversion, no doubt fueled by the fear of discovering something grotesque, to looking into those eyes. Of catching myself in a lie; or seeing the hypocrite; of discovering that part of myself for which I needed to accept responsibility.The part that was responsible for my own misery. Because I knew, subconsciously perhaps, that if and when I ever did accept responsibility for myself, I’d have to do something about it, or I would never know peace. I would never be able to dance." --The Tao of Tango, by Johanna Siegmann,"The Mirror Chapter", http://www.taooftango.com/PDF%20and%20Documents/Mirror%20Chapter.pdf When I first started, I couldn't face you at all. I could look as far as your ankles before flinching and turning away. Technique classes where we must stand facing one another, you and I, are...

A post by Virtualapiz, "Are we talking about the same thing?" sums up a bit of where I am right now. Doubts, work stresses, anxiety from my non-tango life are filtering into my dancing. And I catch myself wondering, does my leader see/feel this dance the way I do? I enjoy dancing with him , but does he enjoy dancing with me ? Am I weighing down his shoulder? Pulling him off his axis? Giving back enough energy? When I first started tango, I didn't know enough to know how badly I was doing. In that state - I was completely open to the experience - to everything anyone would teach me. It seems now that I know just enough to doubt everything else. As another tango blogger quoted from the book, The Shack - in the beginning, I was in a state of expectancy - not expectation . Now I catch myself constantly questioning - shouldn't I be better than this by now? Shouldn't I be able to push my leg back further by now? Should I still be missing cross leads? Why am I still ti...

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

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.

"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...

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 ...

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...

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...

I debated about sharing this. It's been in my drafts for quite awhile. How much personal stuff should I share in this blog? Will it make any sense to anyone else? Well, here it is anyway. At least it will be out of the drafts box. While dancing at the milonga on Saturday I had *the experience* , the liquid, floating, sublime experience of losing myself completely in the music and the leader for the entire song. I don't remember the song now. It was one I knew. It doesn't matter. When G. stopped at the end, he beamed at me and apologized for having to go answer questions now. I think I just blinked for a second before thanking him, grinning madly and drifted back to my chair. I was lightheaded. My ears were ringing before I realized what was happening. My blood sugar was dropping, and then my blood pressure. From the sudden cessation of the pain I had been in all day. Two days? Three days? Whenever the rain started, the pain in my joints came back. So whenever that was. My ...

Since I have been lacking a steady tango practice partner, I've been practicing crosses, ochos and the like on my own at the office, at home, in stairwells, at bus stops - wherever. I've actually been doing this steadily enough that I've developed preferences for certain appliances and pieces of furniture (much to the annoyance of Darling Husband and assorted pets.) The first experiment -ochos in the stairwell at work. While this is an excellent time filler at lunch, it always seems that no one enters the stairwell until I'm in there - and usually it's my director taking the stairs. Slightly awkward, but workable. The next was the refrigerator at home. About the right width, obviously a bit on the tall side, but still workable for monitoring my stability for stretching, turning etc. The cat did not approve as he got a slight shove when he came (quite stealthily) to investigate what I was doing. There was much petting and cuddling the cat afterwards to repair his dam...