Draft essay on tango

[Tango-ne]

So it begins that the story is about a man who lacks an audience. He wants to hear someone say that he is not defeated. The winds blow around him, his world is shaky, but he stands against those forces and shows that he is strong in mind. He is not challenging anything, but is looking to soothe himself and prove himself. But there is no one but himself. So now he becomes self-centered, he wants and needs to treat himself, he needs to show himself that he is still an animal inside though he is humbled on the outside. He has spent what he has, and now he will enjoy what he has bought which is merely a length of song with a woman. That’s the stage on which he is to act. By melting into that song and by melding into that woman, he can make the moment meaningful, he can stretch out time. He will enjoy this moment and let himself prove that the animal inside him is not beaten.

Ultimately he is saying I am brooding, lonely, melancholic, needy, thirsting for attention, hungry to feel in control. He is wanting to feel the aliveness inside come to the surface. He wants to let himself out and enjoy the music with the woman, to move around her, to move her around him, as a perfume that he enjoys, using her to fill the gaps, the loneliness, the need for contact, a warm body in his arms. Like moving warm water around himself, luxuriating in the feel of the rhythm, soothed by the smoothness of the song, moving with the motion of the music, moving the woman around himself to create an imaginary place that becomes a wall against reality, a mystical moment inside the magic of music.

Such music is that of tango. The tones of melancholy, the lyrics of loving and yearning reach deep inside and resonate with the man’s emotions and wraps around his feelings. Yes, he says, I am that music, which is both sad but courageous. It is as if those words and phrases were meant for me. I am lonely but brave, I have lost but am not lost, I want to express that I am still very much alive and I will carry on, just as the beat of the music carries the rhythm on through this song, so too the beat of my feet carries me on through this life. The animal inside the man comes to life and animates his movements, revitalizes his soul.

Him aside, we must consider the woman. The instrument of his soothing. The object of his comfort that comes from being able to express himself without words. He uses her to reassert himself. He looks into her face, he embraces her existence, he pulls her into himself so that he can let his inner animal out. Feel, he lets himself. I am still a man, he uses her to pull that thought out of him. I am not defeated, he poses, but not for an audience, just for himself, but he could not have done it without her support, so she becomes part of him, the other half that was necessary, his partner, his counterpart. Only by being with her could he have told his tale.

Oh, and her? She knows she is helping the man, she moves around him as he needs, she caresses him with her movements, she lets him know that she understands what he wants. She knows that she is needed, by him, to become part of his connection with the music, she lets herself go to him and be moved by him and be used by him to express the joy of life, to help him find himself from within, to help him bring together this moment that he is creating, inside of which there is only the music, him, and her, as one.

Hence at the end of the song, the final pose, the triumph of the soul, the brave face that proves that he is still alive. It remains even as the music fades out, the act continues, he offers his arm and escorts the woman off the stage. He bows in gratitude, then finally, perhaps reluctantly, exits the stage himself.

Kindly, gently, he returns to reality.

Is this then another page in his story of tango?

[Captain Jep]

Hmm Im not sure what your point is. Are you trying to say that men dance with women in order to feel less impotent , to assuage their sense of self pity? I would hope that we are more generous than that. Surely the point is to feel the connection, to give yourself to the other person. This particular guy sounds far too insensitive. He just doesnt care.

[Tango-ne]

It's just a story I wrote as an exercise to try to fill in the background to a routine I am working on. I am just beginning to get an idea of the role that the lead takes on, the character of the dance so to speak. To assume such a role, I wanted to create a bit of a story on what I would be trying to express. Right or wrong, it's just my idea of what might be interesting to communicate. I am by no means saying that my story is anything to do with distilling the essence of tango. I hope that there are elements of tango in it that give it some authenticity. But, no, I am merely a beginner on the sidelines looking forward to putting on a good show for the woman I dance with. Cheers!

[Me]

Do you want me to critique it through PM? I wasted many an hour on my MA in creative writing...

[bordertangoman]

OKay blue pen out: the first paragraph reads as stage notes or a summary of what is to follow. I am not convinced that he should know what the outcome is. He starts dancing with "needs" rather than a clear idea of what he will get from a/the woman.

"I am brooding, lonely, melancholic, needy, thirsting for attention, hungry to feel in control" is more convincing than "By melting into that song and by melding into that woman, he can make the moment meaningful, he can stretch out time. He will enjoy this moment and let himself prove that the animal inside him is not beaten."


Its a bit Pablo Veron/'Tango Lesson' ie Male-centric and takes no account of her needs or that the dance might be a conversation rather then be mere gratification. He could get the same satisfaction from shooting a deer!

[Tango-ne]

Its a bit Pablo Veron/'Tango Lesson' ie Male-centric and takes no account of her needs or that the dance might be a conversation rather then be mere gratification. He could get the same satisfaction from shooting a deer!

I was thinking about a workshop I took, and subsequent comments about the origins of tango, the lonely men at the docks, the evenings dancing with women, expressing desire in the form of dance, and even of the sometimes mentioned ladies-of-the-night-type references who were danced with.

Ergo, I thought a background story would involve a very male-centric position, where the woman is there to satisfy the man, to be <excuse the language> "used" by him.

However; I think that thanks to your input, I will consider a major structural change in the story. HE comes into the picture as "brooding, lonely, melancholic, needy, thirsting for attention, hungry to feel in control" because he is beaten down by his environment (he is alone, he is tired from working, his job is weighing heavily on him, maybe his stock portfolio has taken a beating - ha, this has the smackings of having modern day parallels...) anyways, he pays for a dance with a woman.

BUT here's the difference that I'll make to my story: the woman is paid for to dance, but she awakens him, cheers him on, teaches him by dancing with him. And as he awakens and sees that life is not so bad, that he still has some merit as he licks his wounds, he starts to have a conversation with the woman, and the woman responds by following him deeper and deeper into that conversation of dance. And THAT'S when the animal in him comes to the surface and the woman sees that she has nursed him back. And he is on fire and dancing up a storm and she laughs and follows him around and around and they become one and time stretches on and only when they open their eyes do they see that they had both helped each other lose themselves in the moment and step into a special place outside of their everyday troubles and it is fulfillment that is still ringing in their ears and twinkling in their eyes as the music dies down.

Thanks for the input, by this revision, I see that the role of the man NEEDS the woman, and that he not merely quenching a thirst that may be just as easily satisfied by shooting a deer, which I've never done before, so maybe it is just the better that I took up tango! ;)

[bordertangoman]

well what constitutes manliness and what makes a man is another whole kettle of worms.

i think your story is a lot clearer now, although, animal/anima/animus could lead in all sorts of directions; Beauty & the Beast; Lycanthropy, animal spirits and shamanism; possession, and why is awakening the animal in him a good thing? Like in "Cat People" there is a link between sexuality, power and destrcution.

[Tango-ne]

well what constitutes manliness and what makes a man is another whole kettle of worms.

Good point, I think I'll clarify by saying that the man is depressed by his daily endeavors, that he doesn't know what he wants, that he doesn't know yet what he is looking for, that he decides to use his last resources on a dance, and that through the dance he finds encouragement, he finds enthusiasm, he finds a desire to live and enjoy life (sounds like a Danish movie plot). In this way, I am not defining "manliness" but rather I'm trying to capture the emotional feeling of "the zeal for life".

what makes a man is another whole kettle of worms.

Good point, men are made of worms? All I remember is that little boys are made of snips and snails and puppydog tails! What is a snip? I think I need to know.

Like in "Cat People" there is a link between sexuality, power and destrcution.

Cat people! I remember that movie! It's all coming together now. As a matter of fact, the Tuesday night tango instructor is all about prowling on the dance floor as a predatory large cat. And then there's the whole fascination with furries, anthropomoriphic animals! Which reminds me of a website I clicked through that sold men's latex catsuits. I guess it is the universe telling me that by the next halloween milonga, my transformation into a tango-ing black panther may be both dancually and visually complete! Cheers!

[bordertangoman]

Good point, I think I'll clarify by saying that the man is depressed by his daily endeavors, that he doesn't know what he wants, that he doesn't know yet what he is looking for, that he decides to use his last resources on a dance, and that through the dance he finds encouragement, he finds enthusiasm, he finds a desire to live and enjoy life (sounds like a Danish movie plot). In this way, I am not defining "manliness" but rather I'm trying to capture the emotional feeling of "the zeal for life".

Do you mean The Seventh Zeal? or The Ancient Mariner; playing dice for a mans' soul or maybe tangoing as Dicing with death; or Danse Macabre? by Camille Saint-Saëns,

[QUOTE=Tango-ne;625062]
Good point, men are made of worms? All I remember is that little boys are made of snips and snails and puppydog tails! What is a snip? I think I need to know.!

"snips" should be slugs ie snails without the shells.



Cat people! I remember that movie! It's all coming together now. As a matter of fact, the Tuesday night tango instructor is all about prowling on the dance floor as a predatory large cat. And then there's the whole fascination with furries, anthropomoriphic animals! Which reminds me of a website I clicked through that sold men's latex catsuits. I guess it is the universe telling me that by the next halloween milonga, my transformation into a tango-ing black panther may be both dancually and visually complete! Cheers!

Men's cat suits. very strange.

[newbie]

Nice.

One problem is, A.T is multi-faceted. Difficult to include it all in one lone essay, however well written. Maybe with ballroom it would be possible, you write an essay on one couple preparing for the next day comp and you can put everything in it, all will be covered, the judges, the dresses, the cosmetics, it's all the same in every comp in every part of the world. For A.T a kaleidoscope of essays would be necessary, each one focussing on one theme. I'd say keep the "not-quite-dead" part of your essay, develop it further, make it look like Gavito's last milonga or something, and bar all the rest, about the woman's role and the music. Let other people write an essay on the music, maybe from the point of view of the second violin in an orchesta tipica, with his own view of the tango (non-dancer) and his own frustrations (solo parts being played by the other violin), let another person write about the role of the woman (say from the point of view of a portena at the end of the touristic season, when all the foreign ladies and their CIF are gone) and so on and after one hundred essay are written then DF can edit a book.

[bordertangoman]

Tango-ne what is the music you would use?

[Heather2007]

It's just a story I wrote as an exercise to try to fill in the background to a routine I am working on. I am just beginning to get an idea of the role that the lead takes on, the character of the dance so to speak. To assume such a role, I wanted to create a bit of a story on what I would be trying to express. Right or wrong, it's just my idea of what might be interesting to communicate. I am by no means saying that my story is anything to do with distilling the essence of tango. I hope that there are elements of tango in it that give it some authenticity. But, no, I am merely a beginner on the sidelines looking forward to putting on a good show for the woman I dance with. Cheers!

What you say is how I'd interpreted your meaning. It sounded more like a therapeutic exercise for yourself more than anything rather than an expression of male impotency. I liked it. BUT...of course there's always a "but")...in time you will learn that there is no "must" or "making" or "meaning to". Learn the basics and then "Be" your own.

[Tango-ne]

What you say is how I'd interpreted your meaning. It sounded more like a therapeutic exercise for yourself more than anything rather than an expression of male impotency. I liked it. BUT...of course there's always a "but")...in time you will learn that there is no "must" or "making" or "meaning to". Learn the basics and then "Be" your own.

Therapy...you are right on!

Oh boy oh boy, I think you have set me on the right track now.

As often happens...I just lost a huge amount of digital typing that I was just doing, because my login had timed out and in an effort to log back into this forum, I must have flushed my previous draft post into the digital toilet.

At any rate, my theraputic "breakthrough" has been accomplished! What a bunch of pontificating I was doing with my first draft essay on "a beaten man"! And a conversation with a woman-of-the-night theme? Of what relevance is that to me? That essay was almost like an unemotional attempt to be connected and emotional! It was an exact reflection of why the last miloga we went to ended in our fiery dance known as The "Fiasco"! It was (to use my architecture professor's words) too "contrived"! Arg! Those words haunt me. Not authentic, not from the heart...too contrived. Just like I think my dance has been. (See, there's that word again, "think")

So let me internalize my story and start anew, with more authenticity:

The story is not about any generic beaten man, but it is about me! I am that weary man, beaten by the wealth of tango information that I have collected! From the squiggles in my notebook (what exactly is "ML back to F8 and B5x tap out"?!), to the contradictory voices of my many instructors, to the blurring of the videos we've taken of the numerous workshops and Youtube clips that have been running endlessly in the background. (Yes, I needed therapy all right!)

So I take myself to one more dance, I step heavily through the doors and into the motion, movement, music! I thirst for control, I want to join in, I hunger to be part of the dance. But I am sitting on the sidelines, unable to move. My spirit is crushed (boy I know that feeling!)...then my eyes meet my sweetie's. She silently says come on, one more try, ne? I volunteer some courage thinking it cannot get worse.

And I walk onto the dance floor with dread. I look up and see my sweetie, and it all comes RUSHING back at me...her gentle smile, her twinkling eyes, her gentle touch...and that horrible dance of Fiasco, where I accused her within the misery that I was creating, oh, how could I have been so cruel...so I am sorry...I am so sorry. I stand to face the music, I stand taller and straighter, I am a man, I am sorry, you did not deserve how I treated you, you do not deserve how I am treating you, it does not help to cower and hide, I am a man, not an animal. I will face up to my bad behavior, I will apologize. Darling, I am truly sorry.

I offer my arm, she takes it. I offer my lead hand, she slowly accepts it. I hold her closer. I am embracing her without realizing it, I am holding the perfect frame for us, and I do not know it. We sway to the opening refrains. I am sorry I say again, but before I know it, we are into the tango.

And I do not know what steps I will take, I do not have any figures in mind, I only have an open heart and I am listening with my entire being to what we are saying. What figures did I use? What steps did I incorporate? What style was I showing? I know that it does not matter, it did not matter, it never did matter. But what I know, nay, what I feel, is that whatever they were, the thrill of the tango is back at the surface inside me, the "animal" that has come alive again is the spirit of the tango.

The music fades, the lights come up, our eyes open. And I see my sweetie, oh, she is radiant, she always has been. I won't let go of her. And as I hold her, I look into her face and I hear her at last, saying, thank you, thank you, thank you.

<ah, there I go, letting my fingers type away again! ha!>

[Heather2007]

Therapy...you are right on!

At any rate, my theraputic "breakthrough" has been accomplished! What a bunch of pontificating I was doing with my first draft essay on "a beaten man"! And a conversation with a woman-of-the-night theme? Of what relevance is that to me? That essay was almost like an unemotional attempt to be connected and emotional! It was an exact reflection of why the last miloga we went to ended in our fiery dance known as The "Fiasco"! It was (to use my architecture professor's words) too "contrived"! Arg! Those words haunt me. Not authentic, not from the heart...too contrived. Just like I think my dance has been. (See, there's that word again, "think")

So let me internalize my story and start anew, with more authenticity:

The story is not about any generic beaten man, but it is about me! I am that weary man, beaten by the wealthof tango information that I have collected! From the squiggles in my notebook (what exactly is "ML back to F8 and B5x tap out"?!), to the contradictory voices of my many instructors, to the blurring of the videos we've taken of the numerous workshops and Youtube clips that have been running endlessly in the background. (Yes, I needed therapy all right!)

So I take myself to one more dance, I step heavily through the doors hunger to be part ofand into the motion, movement, music! I thirst for control, I want to join in, I the dance. But I am sitting on the sidelines, unable to move. My spirit is crushed (boy I know that feeling!)...then my eyes meet my sweetie's. She silently says come on, one more try, ne? I volunteer some courage thinking it cannot get worse.

And I walk onto the dance floor with dread. I look up and see my sweetie, and it all comes RUSHING back at me...her gentle smile, her twinkling eyes, her gentle touch...and that horrible dance of Fiasco, where I accused her within the misery that I was creating, oh, how could I have been so cruel...so I am sorry...I am so sorry. I stand to face the music, I stand taller and straighter, I am a man, I am sorry, you did not deserve how I treated you, you do not deserve how I am treating you, it does not help to cower and hide, I am a man, not an animal. I will face up to my bad behavior, I will apologize. Darling, I am truly sorry.

I offer my arm, she takes it. I offer my lead hand, she slowly accepts it. I hold her closer. I am embracing her without realizing it, I am holding the perfect frame for us, and I do not know it. We sway to the opening refrains. I am sorry I say again, but before I know it, we are into the tango.

And I do not know what steps I will take, I do not have any figures in mind, I only have an open heart and I am listening with my entire being to what we are saying. What figures did I use? What steps did I incorporate? What style was I showing? I know that it does not matter, it did not matter, it never did matter. But what I know, nay, what I feel, is that whatever they were, the thrill of the tango is back at the surface inside me, the "animal" that has come alive again is the spirit of the tango.

The music fades, the lights come up, our eyes open. And I see my sweetie, oh, she is radiant, she always has been. I won't let go of her. And as I hold her, I look into her face and I hear her at last, saying, thank you, thank you, thank you.
<ah, there I go, letting my fingers type away again! ha!>

Nice one. BUT (like I said, always a "but") see my red highlights. Therein (I believe) lies the story within the story and beneath the surface of the tango;)

[Tango-ne]

Yes, it is the "voice of the writer" behind the "dance"! I can't wait to get to the lesson tonight! Oops, just had a call from the victim of my dancing...we're going to the university art school show instead, but you can bet I'll be practicing tango steps down the street.

However, I still need to address the attitude behind the other tangos that I will do, when I am not apologizing. I wonder what will be the inspiration? I tell you one thing, the reason I'm somewhat concerned about having a mental story to go by is because we took a few Lindy Hop classes...and boy that's enough to shake the enui out of anybody! But when I got back to the tango class, I got an earful about "keeping the ship level" and "to stop bouncing around". Ouch! Ergo, the need for a short mental story to get me back in the right frame of mind! Cheers!

[Heather2007]

Yes, it is the "voice of the writer" behind the "dance"! I can't wait to get to the lesson tonight! Oops, just had a call from the victim of my dancing...we're going to the university art school show instead, but you can bet I'll be practicing tango steps down the street.

However, I still need to address the attitude behind the other tangos that I will do, when I am not apologizing. I wonder what will be the inspiration? I tell you one thing, the reason I'm somewhat concerned about having a mental story to go by is because we took a few Lindy Hop classes...and boy that's enough to shake the enui out of anybody! But when I got back to the tango class, I got an earful about "keeping the ship level" and "to stop bouncing around". Ouch! Ergo, the need for a short mental story to get me back in the right frame of mind! Cheers!

A-ha! Your replies are bouncing with enthusiasm and honesty :p but yeah, ain't no bouncin' about in tango. This is what I do when I faux pas whilst leading in tango (yeah, even at my level it happens) - rather than saying sorry all the time (a bit like the word "Love": it has a tendancy to lose its meaning the more often it's used), I just squeeze my follower's hands twice, quickly. She's knows that I've cocked up, so the two gentle squeezes she feels is her feeling my apology and sometimes I get a "that's okay" squeeze back.

There's a wonderful (yum-yum) guy here who is an amateur boxer. On Fridays he does a few hours in the ring, showers then comes to straight tango. I asked him how he found the transition between something so aggressive and then onto something so graceful. He replied: "easy, I just draw on the woman within" The "woman" in your piece I interpreted as a part of yourself - more so than some tangible being. :)

[Tango-ne]

... He replied: "easy, I just draw on the woman within" The "woman" in your piece I interpreted as a part of yourself - more so than some tangible being. :)

Okay, that's quite a bit of art therapy...or dance therapy. The "woman within" concept, wow, just when I thought I had a good handle on which direction to go at the next practica. However, it reminds me of six months ago when I read that in Argentina, men would start off by dancing with other men as the follower until they had a few YEARS of experience and were ready to go to a dance! With that spirit in mind, and the fact that there were more men in that class than women, I thought I would offer to practice with the other men! Good idea, but it didn't get any reception at all...I wanted to say, "hey, if it's good for tango, why not?". I dropped the attempt quickly, but the thought remains because I admit that the BEST lessons for me were when the instructor makes me take the follower's role and then I GET IT on what the woman needs. But this idea of the "grace of the woman within" coming into the tango is quite an unexpected turn of conversation! Just when I thought I would get more office work done today, I find that I need to ponder this...hmmmm, I think I'll watch some Orlando Paiva Jr and contemplate...thanks!

As a side note: one workshop instructor...hmmm, his name was...Mariano, said that he never experienced so much non-partner changing as he saw in our community. If the men in our group are unwilling to switch partners, imagine how hard it would be to switch roles! But I still insist that to be thoroughly versed in the dance means understanding both the leader and the follower's parts! Cheers!

[Heather2007]

Okay, that's quite a bit of art therapy...or dance therapy. The "woman within" concept, wow, just when I thought I had a good handle on which direction to go at the next practica. However, it reminds me of six months ago when I read that in Argentina, men would start off by dancing with other men!

:D - it's not about a man leading (although yes, I agree re. learning both parts, but more getting in touch with another side of your character. Learning to follow was a major headache for me at first. Having to "let go" and allow the man to lead my move was hard, hard, hard. Until I brushed the man within aside and drew out the woman. Balance.

I find that I need to ponder this...hmmmm, I think I'll watch some Orlando Paiva Jr and contemplate...thanks!!

Or, why don't you just stand on the spot,close your eyes and see where the music takes you.:D

As a side note: one workshop instructor...hmmm, his name was...Mariano, said that he never experienced so much non-partner changing as he saw in our community. If the men in our group are unwilling to switch partners, imagine how hard it would be to switch roles! But I still insist that to be thoroughly versed in the dance means understanding both the leader and the follower's parts! Cheers![/quote]

[Tango-ne]

The character of the dance that I want to tango is what I'm looking for when I say I need a mental reference to get me in the right frame of mind.

So fine, I've worked out my routine for a dance with my ever-so-patient partner...tango-overloaded man>owns up to previous arguement with partner>makes an apology thru dance by letting himself go.

But in the other dances. I guess it depends on the mood I'm in, but I'm watching Dances with the Stars and I get an inkling that to "get into the character of the dance" is a good thing. Especially with dances like the Paso Doble. So I am wondering: what is a good starting point for my beginner tango?

Arrogant man>takes pleasure in the dance partner.
Sensitive man>wants to give the woman a pleasurable dance.
Showoffy man>wants to show off himself to the woman.
Introspective man>looks for inner peace thru dancing with the woman.
Conversationalist>...hmmmmm

As in, let's have a conversation through dance. Ok, I think that is the phrase I'm looking for.

Whatever the outside world, the man steps into the dance hall and looks forward to communicating through dance. The evening holds the promise of lots of dances, and he hopes that there will be enough variety in the music to help him express his thoughts that evening.

He does not know what he is going to say through dance, but the music starts and so does the conversation. He takes his first partner to the floor, they embrace, an open embrace, the music has an aggressive tone. It suits him just fine. He starts off and says "what a hard day!" by leading the woman to a series of ochos...with flicks and sharp turns...an expression of the twists and turns of his day...then the music holds a long note, and the woman steps into the invitation for a close embrace as if to say "it's okay, the day is over...", and then the music speeds up, and now the woman says "I've had a hard day too!" and spins around and around in a moullette with the music then stops and strikes a pose in defiance...close embrace again and the man says "yes, we have had a hard day...but you are right, let's forget the day and look forward to the night" The dance continues as a conversation...hmmm...I think this is going to work.

After all, unlike Dances with the Stars, there are no judges on the dance floor, and as long as the conversation continues, who knows what the topics will be. It would depend on the mood, the music, the partner, the atmosphere, etc, etc...how wonderful. I now look forward to the next milonga! Cheers!

[Heather2007]

Arrogant man>takes pleasure in the dance partner.
Sensitive man>wants to give the woman a pleasurable dance.
Showoffy man>wants to show off himself to the woman.
Introspective man>looks for inner peace thru dancing with the woman.
Conversationalist>...hmmmmm?!

Hee, hee, hee :-)

The character of the dance that I want to tango is what I'm looking for when I say I need a mental reference to get me in the right frame of mind.!

So I am wondering: what is a good starting point for my beginner tango?!

It is so good that you're visualising ahead to where you want to be and understanding exactly what you want from your dance. BUT (yep, that word again) as a newcomer, my advice to you would be to at this stage to listen, watch and then practice, practice, practice. Whilst resting visualise the entire class all over again and if you feel the need to leap up and dance then do so. Remember, this whole getting into character is not like the character taken on in practice as one sees on Dancing with the Stars (our Strictly Come Dancing). These dancers are dancing for points not merely pleasure and so not only do "choreographed" dance skills have to be learned and remembered but the dance face too has to be put in place. Social dance is a pleasure not a competition and so there really is no "getting into character" as it were but marking your own character into your dance. This will come easily and naturally the more experience you become. And, and, and if there is too much thinking, rationalising, analysing going on in the dance that personality that is struggling to come through to make the dance its own will just disappear into a corner.

Happy days, my friend. Practice, practice, visualise, practice and remember? Enjoy it.

[Tango-ne]

Ah yes, I should scribble some pointers onto my hand...not unlike some of my fellow beginners who bring small cards with dance notes on them to the milonga...and dance with them in their lead hand! But even as I cheer them on, I have my own notebook full of tips open on my lap!

But now, instead of figures, I will write small notes to myself such as:

"Paralysis through analysis"...just to remind me not to overthink!

Nike is good too..."Just do it"

<or perhaps BMW? "The Ultimate Driving Machine!" ha! not yet! as if! oh yes...>

Or as Peter Pan would say, "believe"

Yes, my practice notes are in front of the computer, tango music fills the room, my dancing shoes are begging to be slipped on, and yet...somehow, my business phone just won't leave me alone, and Outlook keeps beeping a reminder that the afternoon meetings are looming ever closer! Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

Tango lesson and Practica tonight! Oh, I hope I can put to action all these "conversation" concepts that I've been brainstorming for the past week. Well, all the thinking part is done, tonight I hope to just let go...and go! Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

Oh dear! After last night's lesson, I understand how OFF TRACK I had gotten with my creative story writing!

You all are right! Stories are akin to pre-made choreography! What I need is the right "attitude" to bring to the dance floor.

All those patterns that I had been memorizing and putting together DO NOT, I realize now, make up the Tango! Tango is the feeling expressed by those patterns...I was searching for the wrong way up. Putting together the pieces of the elephant without having a clear picture of what is the elephant! Or more like a gorilla I feel and fear as I clumsily lead around the dance floor.

So now I'm glad that I've explored that story-writing approach, but it's a bit of a dead end, so I'm back on the street and getting back to the basics. Stay tuned! Cheers!

[Heather2007]

Oh dear! After last night's lesson, I understand how OFF TRACK I had gotten with my creative story writing!

You all are right! Stories are akin to pre-made choreography! What I need is the right "attitude" to bring to the dance floor.

All those patterns that I had been memorizing and putting together DO NOT, I realize now, make up the Tango! Tango is the feeling expressed by those patterns...I was searching for the wrong way up. Putting together the pieces of the elephant without having a clear picture of what is the elephant! Or more like a gorilla I feel and fear as I clumsily lead around the dance floor.

So now I'm glad that I've explored that story-writing approach, but it's a bit of a dead end, so I'm back on the street and getting back to the basics. Stay tuned! Cheers!

Aaaaah, bless you. You know what, I love reading your messages..they are so *******ingly honest in that wonderful newborn baby way. I almost want to kiss the screen. And, and, and...STOP thinking so hard and just the let the music dictate to you rather than the other way round. And remember patterns? Don't. Or, better still, try making up your own - that way you'll get a better buzz.;)

[newbie]

.
.
<=== Here
.
.
the pieces of the elephant without having a clear picture of what is the elephant!

[Tango-ne]

Or, better still, try making up your own - that way you'll get a better buzz.;)

Does a tree make a noise when it falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear it? Oh that is a good question, because, only I know that I just spent a goodly amount of lunchtime time typing out my Treatise on Tango, and horrors, as I reached for the mouse to hit "submit", just in that moment of moments, some cosmic sneeze jammed my computer and the screen went blank. I had to laugh. It was SO appropriate! A huge amount of time pontificating...right down the ether! From digital dust to digital dust. Or perhaps, garbage in/garbage out? Or...as I started off...does that digital tree make a noise when it comes crashing down in virtual space?

Well, the answer is...YES! All that writing was worth something...and if I trusted this computer not to crash again, I would type it all out again. But did I mention that I skipped lunch to devote time to this task? I must go eat! Must keep up my energy to tango! or to write about it anyways! If I have the courage to retype my musing...well, it will appear later on, ne? Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

New Beginnings:

The nouveau tango enthusiast comes upon a most curious sight. It is a dance floor in a clearing in the forest. After hours of gruelling hacking and chopping through the underbrush, this open area is a sight for sore eyes not to mention a welcome for his tired feet. But just as he is about to step forward onto the anomaly, he stops himself and falters at the edge. As he narrows his eyes and tries to make sense of what he sees, there are two lines magically appearing on that dance floor of the forest. One is a dark brooding black line, like powerful ink brushed on with the confidence of the ancient calligraphers on pure white rice paper. The other line is a beautiful fluid blue spilling forward with the grace and curves of the laughter of nymphs. As he watches, the line come together, pause, then start moving in parallel. Of course the strains of the tango reach his ears and the lines move with purpose with the music...

And herein we witness the beginnings of a New Idea in the Cravings of the Beginner...stay tuned! I'm late for an appointment and can't keep writing right now! Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

Sheesh, this computer crashing thing is getting a little old...or maybe I'm getting old in that I haven't learned to "save draft" every couple of...seconds!

Imagine if you will: a great rewrite that was just lost again into the nothingness of the electronic ocean. What remains is just as follows (and spares the reader my nonsense that lead up to the idea):

The idea of tango music as a Purple Ribbon, the male leader as an entity of Dark Blue, and the woman follower as Bright Red...the blue and red embrace as they wait for the purple, which is now appearing and wrapping them up, hugging them close together and, like a great genie, starts moving them smoothly and powerfully around the dance floor, leaving carved curves of blue and red lines as a trace of their adventure, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes stopping altogether and swirling around and around. Always carried by the music, the color, as it were, of the tango.

And that record of the dance is what the beginner tangerous at the forest clearing sees...and he begins to understand that it is not the memorized patterns or figures that creates those lines, but it is the music itself that inspires interesting ways of inscribing them. He is a little closer to his tango now and gets back to his notes...

[Tango-ne]

I'm starting to get it.

The music moves the leader to move the follower.

<Notes from my woman>:

My woman: Just lead me on the floor, to the music.
Me: That's why I'm memorizing these figures...
My woman: That's not as important as other things because I can't tell what figures you're doing anyways until you're into them.
Me: "other things"??
My woman: The key thing is - you, me, the music, the floor...all in sync.
Me: That's it?
My woman: Yes, but "in sync" is the key. The music moves, you move, you move me, we move on the dance floor. If you're in the groove, then it doesn't matter to me what figures you do. I step with your leads, your leads are meshed with the music, all is good.
Me (holding up my notebook): What about all these figures and patterns then?
My woman: Use them according to the music to switch things up. I start to notice repetition when you don't switch up your steps according to the music; the music changes/you change what you are leading me in, and all is good. It's only when you continue to do the same step (like those back ochos) even when the music changes that are as noticeable as if you didn't step with the music.
Me (contemplating, or trying to look as if I am):....hmmmmm....
My woman: Variety in the music, so too variety in the steps. Then we are all happily dancing. You, me, the music, the floor. Feel it here (her hand moves forward to my...I'm guessing, heart...nope too obvious...to my chest then, nope...maybe to my forehead?eyes? ears? her hand travels down, down...oh...!)
Me: I...I...oh...I understand...
My woman (massaging): Good, I'm glad I could be of help.
(She gives a squeeze and let's go of my...feet. Oh I love a good foot massage!) And of course she is right on. It is my feet that trace the steps on the floor and the feet that moves the body. Yes, yes, one instructor says "ignore the feet, they will find their own way, as they have for all your life, instead, think of moving your chest around". I'll get to that idea later...but next dance...I'll let the music move my feet and my feet to move me and me to move my woman...around and around the floor! Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

Conversations with my techie biomechanical analyst friend (He has the slow motion cams and digital software that he's written himself. His room IS a laboratory, I don't know half of what all those wires and computers are for, and I'm no dummy, but this place is crazy. One wall looks like a recording studio, he does a lot of sound and audio things that are classified! How is sound analysis classified? Anyways, we are both seated at his control desk, there are five different monitors in front of us. I feel like we are building a cyborg, but instead, we are analysizing the "feel of music and the soul of tango." Hey, he said he could help and I'm game for anything.)

On the main screen is a closeup of a leader and follower, I don't remember what clip we are watching, but on another smaller monitor, there is a fast motion version of the clip playing in a loop. Step, step, side step, back ochos, bolero, out. We chose this clip because the audio is, according to my friend, neat. On a couple of screens are moving graphs and charts and things that are following the music. There's one in particular that I like because it breaks down the music in a beat line, the melody line, and other static line. The cool thing though is that the audio track has picked up the slight sounds of the footfalls, which my friend uses to syncronize the film with the audio. Now it feels like we are analyzing the gunshot noises on the old JFK film clips.

My friend has sketched out what he calls the Man Motion Track and lined it up with the Music Melody Track. He says he has found the essence of tango in the data and is eager to show me...he says nothing as if it's obvious what I'm looking at. Now I feel like I'm looking at security cameras in slo mo waiting for a ghost to appear.

My friend: There! there it is, see it? And again...
Me:....uh....
My friend: I'll play it again from the beginning, keep your eyes on the melody track...
Me (up close to the screen):....okay....what am I looking for?
My friend (patiently): I thought YOU were the tango expert. Okay, watch the man's foot on the floor and keep your eye on the beat, better yet (he types a few commands on the computer and somehow he gets a couple of dancing colored dots to appear, they appear like music notes on a staff, in perfect time to the music.) And now we isolate the foot fall noises (he types again and a square appears each time the man's foot hits the floor). Now watch.
Me:...oh....interesting!
My friend: see, it happens over and over, with each step. Now I'll add the woman's footfall noises...let's use a blue square to flash.

And this is what I see:

The clip starts: man footfall, woman footfall, beat of the music are all at once.
The melody starts an upward swell.
A beat falls.
The man's foot starts to move...(my friend nudges me and I nod)
THEN the woman's foot starts to move in response...
Then the man's footfall meets the woman's footfall and hits the floor just when the beat light flashes.

I see that the role of man's feet is to move BETWEEN beats, the direction of the movement leads the woman (I'm sure the chest is leading up out of view of the clip), I see the woman moves her foot faster than the man, the man is waiting for the beat now, up in the air, then moves in unison with the woman's foot and they both land on the beat. The man is ahead of the beat, but lands on the beat. The woman is behind the man, but ahead of the beat as well and the man waits for her to catch up, and down they go. Over and over, whether it's the stepping or the ochos.

And we are watching this in slow motion, which I forget until my friend speeds up the series to normal speed...and there...I can't see the nuances anymore, but I definitely "feel" that the couple on the screen are totally in sync with the music!

My geek friend smiles and shuts down this simulation then returns to his more "serious" endeavors. I say thanks! But he's already got his headphones on and is mumbling "don't let the cat out when you leave..." I have no doubt that tango for him is child's play. Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

Thoughts of Tango from the perspective of my Feet:

The primary thing I, sorry, WE, do is balance the body up there. We are the only points of contact with the floor, we are the handle on the whip...the tail of the whip is up there...way up there in the middle of the chest somewhere. But it's an odd sort of motion that we have to initiate because we have to get all that MASS up there moving before we are off balance enough to leap ahead to where we need to be to rebalance that mass, or to keep it moving!

Luckily, once that mass starts toppling, we are quick enough that we can get under it in plenty of time. We can even hover around for a while and time our landing to some music. Then we rebalance the whole shebang, choose a direction and retopple.

Oh, by the way, while we are in the business of balancing, we keep the mass above us way ahead over the arches so that we can keep the Other Body (the follower) at a good distance to give ourselves some working room. In a way, we send a motion wave up the leg to the body to initate a direction then depend on this body to keep a good enough frame so that we can also start to move the follower's body as well. So sometimes we have to pivot and do all sorts of gymnastics to get the follower to come along...then once we are satisfied that everyone is moving the right way we listen to the music and get ready to either continue the motion or catch everything in perfect balance...but THAT depends on the guy in charge upstairs...and if we don't get the command in time...well, we stumble around! But that's not OUR problem. But it's getting better these days...we are getting our signals in a smoother data stream, and we are able to land more with the music! Out.

[Tango-ne]

The Theory of Threes:

Goldilocks: the first bed is too hard, the second, too soft, but the third is JUST RIGHT.
Washing rice (Japan): once for your ancestors, once for yourself, once for the future.
Identifying noises: <creak> What was that? What? <creak> Oh that? Yeah what is that? <creak> The wind.
Practicing: Watch...<action>. Hey, do that again, I missed it! <action>...Cool! Do it again <action for the last time>

The Theory of Threes says that the first time is Surprising. The second time is Experiencing. And the third time is Understanding.

Then the fourth time becomes Old Hat. So before the fourth time, we should made do Something New for the first time.

This is the lesson told by my instructor on why he only does three backward ochos before moving on. Or three ganchos, boleros, etc at the most.

Too few...as in A New Thing, A Newer Thing, Another New Thing...is just one surprise after another and not pleasurable. There's no time to experience and understand.

His thinking is that the dance is FOR the follower, so he presents a New Thing, lets her experience it by doing it again, and then lets her understand it by doing it a third time, then gives her a new surprise right after that, over and over. So that by the end of the dance, the follower has had a multitude of new things shown to her, has had the time to experience the newness and gain an understading (or enjoyment) out of them, and in quick sucession so that she was never bored by it all. The Theory of Threes...I'll build on that! Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

So I'm furiously sketching, trying to do the human figure, doodling the proportions, attempting to get fluid motion in the drawing, trying to get the action going. I'm at the library getting books on "How to sketch", "Using the Right Side of the Brain", etc. Then I spy a comic book! American! But the superhero on the cover, the villainess, the posture, the stance, it's all so...so...Tango!

I feel like I'm buying illicit material as I go through the loans desk and check out the book, but I think it holds a clue to something I'm looking for...but I don't quite know what that something is...

So I start copying the cover art and the inside art. And as I sketch I begin to see the relationship of the shoulders with the hips, and the chest with the bellybutton, and the knees with the ankles, and the way the feet have to look like they are supporting the mass above.

I am getting a feel for balance and posture and the tilt of the head in relation to the back, and the arch of the spine as it goes around the shoulders and down to the rump, and how the hips curve into thighs.

And then I see that from the feet to the head and the postion of the knees to the wrists and the weight of the head and direction of the eyes...it all goes to tell a bit of the story...Story! That's where I started it all off!

But now I'm looking at the feet and how they are posed but solid to the ground. I hope no one is looking in the window because they will see me standing there with a comic book, posing like a superhero! Sigh...if they only knew the whole story! But there's something about how the artist captures the attitude and the motion and the balance of the figure that seems so much of what is in my head about the Tango...

This merits some exploration...but even as I sketch...with piazzola in the background...I am thinking of > feet pushing against the floor > one body leading another > music moving me > posing with character.

There's something there about the posture...I can't quite get my mind around it yet, but surely it is significant! Cheers!

[bordertangoman]

So I'm furiously sketching, trying to do the human figure, doodling the proportions, attempting to get fluid motion in the drawing, trying to get the action going. I'm at the library getting books on "How to sketch", "Using the Right Side of the Brain", etc. Then I spy a comic book! American! But the superhero on the cover, the villainess, the posture, the stance, it's all so...so...Tango!

I feel like I'm buying illicit material as I go through the loans desk and check out the book, but I think it holds a clue to something I'm looking for...but I don't quite know what that something is...

So I start copying the cover art and the inside art. And as I sketch I begin to see the relationship of the shoulders with the hips, and the chest with the bellybutton, and the knees with the ankles, and the way the feet have to look like they are supporting the mass above.

I am getting a feel for balance and posture and the tilt of the head in relation to the back, and the arch of the spine as it goes around the shoulders and down to the rump, and how the hips curve into thighs.

And then I see that from the feet to the head and the postion of the knees to the wrists and the weight of the head and direction of the eyes...it all goes to tell a bit of the story...Story! That's where I started it all off!

But now I'm looking at the feet and how they are posed but solid to the ground. I hope no one is looking in the window because they will see me standing there with a comic book, posing like a superhero! Sigh...if they only knew the whole story! But there's something about how the artist captures the attitude and the motion and the balance of the figure that seems so much of what is in my head about the Tango...

This merits some exploration...but even as I sketch...with piazzola in the background...I am thinking of > feet pushing against the floor > one body leading another > music moving me > posing with character.

There's something there about the posture...I can't quite get my mind around it yet, but surely it is significant! Cheers!

Have you seen the film "Waking Life?"

on threes ( four your partner may be getting bored) but its on or two or three for dancing but i use threes for teaching; but with a new partner each time.

Are you writing a book?

[Heather2007]

Are you writing a book?

I know what you mean. His writing is so engaging and his posts read like extracts...

[bordertangoman]

Thoughts of Tango from the perspective of my Feet:

The primary thing I, sorry, WE, do is balance the body up there. We are the only points of contact with the floor, we are the handle on the whip...the tail of the whip is up there...way up there in the middle of the chest somewhere. But it's an odd sort of motion that we have to initiate because we have to get all that MASS up there moving before we are off balance enough to leap ahead to where we need to be to rebalance that mass, or to keep it moving!

Luckily, once that mass starts toppling, we are quick enough that we can get under it in plenty of time. We can even hover around for a while and time our landing to some music. Then we rebalance the whole shebang, choose a direction and retopple.

Oh, by the way, while we are in the business of balancing, we keep the mass above us way ahead over the arches so that we can keep the Other Body (the follower) at a good distance to give ourselves some working room. In a way, we send a motion wave up the leg to the body to initate a direction then depend on this body to keep a good enough frame so that we can also start to move the follower's body as well. So sometimes we have to pivot and do all sorts of gymnastics to get the follower to come along...then once we are satisfied that everyone is moving the right way we listen to the music and get ready to either continue the motion or catch everything in perfect balance...but THAT depends on the guy in charge upstairs...and if we don't get the command in time...well, we stumble around! But that's not OUR problem. But it's getting better these days...we are getting our signals in a smoother data stream, and we are able to land more with the music! Out.

ever heard Laurie Anderson's song "Walking & Falling"? I use this occasionally to teach people how to KEEP that in tango but to allow themselves to fall more then catch themselves.
it transforms the way they move. (Yeah I end up with a heap of people on the floor, ironic ha ha)

[Tango-ne]

ever heard Laurie Anderson's song "Walking & Falling"?

Oh, I just listened to the clip! Thanks for the tip...tip...walking...and falling...you are now in my power...hear nothing but my voice...walking...and falling...you are feeling very sleepy...you will dance the tango...you will not think of figures or patterns...you will become the music...become the music...walking...and falling...now I'm going to count backwards from ten...and you will wake up...you will feel crisp after...walking...and falling...you will dance the tango...ready...three...two...one...<fingers snap>...<snap, snap>...<slap!>...<medic! is there a doctor in the house?! somebody help!>

Now I'm typing...typing...just thinking and typing...

If I ever figure out the new iPod generation I'm going to take that music clip to a tango lesson! Ah the spawning of a new era.

At last night's lesson (on walking and pausing with purpose, on lowering one's body for a powerful step, then rising for quicker steps) - I had an interesting Dance of the Knees. It drove my partner nuts. "Give me more chest, chest, more chest...less butt...forward first, then feet." Argh! So this tip about falling is a good mental image to keep!

And it was a doubly good lesson because I am working back from the basics right now. The power couple, dubbed the Italian Duo...whipped around and around me, but for the first time I felt like I was going to let them race around for a while because I am starting to build a good foundation on which to rebuild using the blocks that I had been collecting over the past year. Sure the Italian Duo can remember the building blocks of patterns and figures, and sure I too used to race around to see how high I could pile those blocks. And some days I got that stack pretty high, it took a lot of sacrifice though! You have to ignore the music, ignore your partner, have a mighty frame and strong grip. You have to be relentless and go from move after move, sometimes stacking two or three of them together and pulling your partner along. But, but...eventually the stack has to be seen for the flimsy structure it was. And it hit me between the eyes as I watched a video of myself. Oh the brutal honesty. Whereas I thought I was like a beautiful swirl of partnership on the dance floor, I was actually a brutish monster stomping other couples out of the way and using my partner as if a broom to sweep the music off to the sidelines! What was I thinking! And as I watched that very clip, in unmitigated horror, I saw that the very tower that I had been building was so very, very fake and that I was so utterly consumed with the race of figures that I couldn't see that the thing was toppling over, and that other couples were not stepping back so as to admire my form, but they were stampeding to get out of the way of the flying whirlwind of limbs coming their way! Oh, how the heavy fall (I dare not use the word mighty, for there was nothing mighty or even noble about my efforts, other than the extent of blindness and deafness that I demonstrated!).

In retrospect, that disasterous milonga, wherein, as you may remember, I barked at my sweetie that she wasn't trying hard enough with me! Oh, the humiliation that I feel in that memory! How can I make it up to you my dear?

Am I writing a book? Heavens no...or am I? Kidding.

It's within that shame and embarrasment that I found this public forum and I embarked on this more chatty path of talking out my ideas...with the hope that by voicing out my thoughts, I will lay bare my ideas, air out my thoughts in public, be exposed and naked in a glaring light so as not to be blinded by my imagination again. Please point and laugh and tell me if my new clothes are pretend! I am not an emperor, but I had exhibited the very same vain qualities!

As for the Italian Duo, you guys better watch out, because though I am standing amongst the rubble of my elementary tango, I am rebuilding with a religious fevor, and as long as my computer and my feet hold out, I will be exploring the many facets of tango and before you know it...YOU will be the ones glancing up from your dance and misstepping with envy! But no, that is too harsh...I will help you too, gentle friends, and we shall dance together... that is the new spirit, ne? Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

Modesty, Humility, Simplicity, Elegance...these are the women I am dancing with right now. Their demands are not loud, and before I met them, I was in way over my head. I had been dancing with Show, Drama, Complexity, and even with History. I now I leave those women for men with far more experience than me, let them deal with more advanced concepts. I have finally opened my heart to welcome those four beautiful Foundation sisters who have so patiently been watching with bemused smiles but who will not dance unless asked first. So, humbled, I approached them. And to my surprise, one after another said "yes" last night at the practica. And now I have a new direction. I am christened in the glory of the opening move, the "One" (not yet followed by 2-3-4-5cross!), I am taking my first step towards a new approach. I will give my best 1 to anyone who cares to test me out, and dare any man to approach me in a challenge, for I have bowed my head and am ready to take in the lessons taught to me by those wonderful partners...I whisper their names so as not to surprise them, "Modesty, Humility, Simplicity, and Elegance." Oh I can't wait to see them again! I can smell their sweet perfume on me whenever I move. Do not be jealous my Sweet, I go forth to partake in their lessons so that I may come back and please you!

[bordertangoman]

Not Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy?
I have been dancing with horses; my advice is dance congruently; ie with what you are feeling not with what you should be feeling.

Open heart is good( I'm told)
This is another Laurie Anderson Song worth playing : Poison
with great lyrics:

It was one of those black cat night
The moon had gone out and the air was thin
It was the kind of night the cat would drag in.

I'll never forget it, we had a fight.
Then you turned around turned on the light. You
left our bed.
Then you moved downstairs to live with her
instead.
Yeah just one floor and a shout away.
I guess I should have moved but I decided to
stay.
Did I drink some poison that I don't remember
now?

And every night I open all the windows
I let a cold dark wind blow through.
I play loud organ music and I talk to myself and
dream of you.
Uh oh! I hear voices coming up through the pipes.
Through all the springs in my bed and up through
the lights.
The volume goes up then it drops back down
I can hear the two of you playing records
Moving furniture and fooling around.

Did I drink some poison that I don't remember
now?
Is there blood on my hands?
No, my hands are clean.
Did I do something in another lifetime
That was really really mean?

Yeah I'm hearing voices.
Am I losing my mind?
Think I'm going crazy, I gotta get out.
I run into the street and start to shout
Get out of my way! Get out! Get out!

Did I drink some poison that I don't remember
now?
Is there blood on my hands?
Did I do something in another lifetime
that was really really mean?

A small bullet, a piece of glass
And your heart just grows around it.

[Heather2007]

Modesty, Humility, Simplicity, Elegance...these are the women I am dancing with right now. Their demands are not loud!

Beautifully put - siiigghhhh

And to my surprise, one after another said "yes"!

Why should you be surprised. These wonderful four elements have obviously detected something within you that goes beyond the tango steps, that is for sure;)

[Tango-ne]

Am I dancing the Tango or is the Tango dancing me?

The wind is warm as it blows over this grassy hill I'm on. I am so blessed to be at this location. The clouds are big and puffy but moving fast across the sky. I don't know why the wind is so inviting today, but I'm not complaining. I close my eyes and I can feel the sunshine. I spread out my arms and lean backwards into the wind. My white shirt is flapping away and I could care less that the wind has pulled the buttons open. The earth is hugging me, I feel Her Elements wrap around me. I hold their hands and say let's go!. I open my eyes and skip and stumble down the hill with them racing around me. I am moved by them and my being is theirs. I am not their master to control, I am merely happy to be amongst them as they bubble around me. So I ask again, am I dancing them, or are they dancing me?

Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

As this week comes to a close..I like the progress we have made. I now see my notes in a whole new light:

From Modesty I learned > I am not a mad matador, there is no need for wild waving of my arms and elbows, no need for rapid twists of the torso and stomps of the feet. She said, just whisper, I am right here, I can hear your modest movements, lead me with calm and quiet, little movements, there, easy, nice, I'm right here...and she pressed into me.

From Humility I learned > I am dancing for me, from the heart, for her, to her heart. There is no audience, there is no competition, no judging, no applause, no record even of this dance, it is just a moment enjoyed together, she said, close your eyes, nobody is looking, focus just on us, forget about everyone else and you will see you are with me...and she closed her eyes.

From Simplicity I learned > tango is simple, man makes it complex. It is not a dance of long sentences with no time to breathe. No. It is a dance of the moment, a moment between two steps, the one just finishing and the one just starting. Any more is like trying to demand where the next raindrop will fall, she said, be the rain, be in this moment not the next, trust yourself in not knowing...and she relaxed in my arms.

From Elegance I learned > the words are the same whether I shout them or sing them…so which is more pleasant? We are dancing, not rock smashing. So when you hold my hand, hold it just so. And when you step, step just so. Do not forget that though a step is a step, it makes ALL the difference in how you take it. Touch my heart with your motion, not your knowledge of figures, she said, reach for my soul and in doing so you will find yours…and softly she started to hum.

Note: a short thank you to my teachers, both real and imagined, both on the floor and in this forum. Cheers!

[Tango-ne]

And of course, a huge hug and thank you to my ever patient Sweetie. I'll untangle this tango yet dear! xox

[Tango-ne]

My mad uncle H.

I went to visit uncle H, as I do, occasionally, for some insight, or rather, for a different perspective on this thing called tango that I’m mulling over. In this instance it was with some foreboding that I pushed through his garden gates and made my way across the junkyard that was his front yard. Well, actually, it was also like that in his side yards and his back yard, and forget about the garage, you can’t even see where it is for all the half digested appliances, and car chassis, and bed springs, and computers and televisions, but the odd thing is that, unlike a real junkyard, the items collected by uncle H have a certain aesthetic to them, and dare I say, almost artistic merit, or am I just seeing beauty in the masses? or messes? At any rate, I’m up on his porch and wondering which front door to knock on, for there are four distinct front doors all somewhat side by side along the front of the house, and from experience, I know that each leads to different foyers and hallways only to meet up together deeper in the house before splitting apart and leading to various rooms and stairways, and careful, one leads you right back around to the front again. You think that’s odd about all those front doors? Take a look inside! There are doors everywhere, some leading to rooms, some leading to blank walls, some opening into empty space, and every time I show up, there’s a different combination of doors that are either open or closed and locked. You think I’m kidding, right? The next time you’re this far up North, give me a call and we’ll go for a visit.

So after a goodly long time knocking on each of the doors, uncle H pops his head out the attic window way up on the third and a half floor up and shouts merrily, “c’mon up!” in which case he literally means that I should climb the wisteria bramble up to the second floor deck and then shimmy up the (get this) drainpipe! just like in the movies, and finally onto the top roof. Don’t worry, I’ve gone up this way before, and trust me, it’s as dangerous as it looks, but it’s so much faster than going in the front door. As an aside, do you want to really know what the inside is like? Because uncle H has an equally mad housekeeper who roams the halls and, no kidding, this is so like the Labyrinths of myth with a minotaur salivating in the depths somewhere. So climbing along the outside is actually much preferable!

Then I am finally at his window and I look inside to see what manner of material will comprise my landing pad today, and see just the familiar books that are piled high everywhere forming an adult version of the ball room but of course with books. I jump in. Uncle H does not mind that the books are stepped on, he does not worry about it much like one does not worry about hurting the feelings of grass as you stomp across the lawn. Uncle H is sitting in the biggest of easy chairs and is veritably sucked up by the puffy cushions. It looks as if a giant marshmallow is swallowing him up whole. He grins up at me. I must be one of the few visitors he has in a day, or is it a month? or year?

“Add to my amusement,” he says and watches me with the anticipation of kindergarteners at a clown party. I swear he is waiting for me to pull a rabbit out of my trousers and that nothing less is expected, but I have never disappointed him, so I launched into the Duel of Ridiculous Things, as I like to call our conversations.

“Uncle H,” I start, “I have started to learn the tango, and I thin-…”
“Sing, my boy,” he interrupted.
“Sing? I can’t sing!”
“You are practicing tango and you can’t sing?!”
“Well, I can sing, but now? here?”
“Ahhhh,” Uncle H said with a sigh, “if you want to tango, you have to be able to sing on the spot…to dance is to be responsive to the sounds and emotions around you, just like singing! Pull inspiration out of the air, mesh it with your feelings, express it through your motions, wrestle with the monster that is the music of tango!” His eyes were glowing, I swear.
“Er,” I obligingly answered, I knew it would spur him on to more of an explanation. Besides, what did Uncle H know of tango?! Or rather, what did he NOT know about anything…he continued, “You’ve reduced the dance to its basics, yes? WELL forget it! Did you name your findings with cute and romantic Titles? Beauty? Lyrics? Style? no, no, let me guess…ummm…definitely you would have used…Elegance! ah ha! I knew it! Boy, discard your ideas. Look in my garden. Behold the chaos from which there is rhythm and pattern. Through complexity you will find grace. Through variety you will find happiness. Under the cover of the multitude will you find the object of your singular pursuit!” His eyes twinkled now. What a jolly old elf! Scrawny, but packs quite a punch!
“Follow my example, the clutter is only the clothes, under it all is the body that supports it, but no need to be so blatant and obvious. Hide yourself a little, expose only here and there. Use the clutter to show the contrast with the inner beauty. Ying and Yang. Balance. Think back to when you were a little pipsqueak. Remember this old house in its pristine state. And now look…piles of interest, items, objects, angles, shadows, windows, a multitude of paths! Where is the real me? Who is Uncle H?! Exciting, ne?”

Exciting indeed good uncle. And I took leave then, and have hurried back to my hack-keyed computer and have been typing ever since for you! What are the implications of what my Uncle said? And so timely that having just, just finished my week of musing, that he throws a wrench into the whole works! I must ponder, but first…some sweet Quartango! Cheers!

[kieronneedscake]

Quite a bizarre but entertaining read, thankyou Tango-ne.

Singing seems to be an appropriate metaphor. By letting my mind involve itself in the melody and music as a whole, it is rather like screaming musicality at my partner. They can't help but notice which musical features I am chasing.

Sadly pesky real-world issues like other dancers and imperfect connection stops me devoting myself like this most of the time. Yes. Singing. I like that.

Note: Some women get weirded out if you actually sing along, particularly if you are tone deaf...

[Tango-ne]

Horrors!

Uncle H wants to experience a tango event…the next one…which is tonight! What does he except? What do I expect? How could I say no?

I had no time to ask him any questions, he was so excited and so enthusiastic, I could feel the spittle flying at me through the phone. I barely got in a word edgewise and found myself agreeing to come around to pick him up. I remember that I told him that he should wear something decent, but I doubt he heard me on that count, then he hung up. I didn’t even get to say what time I would be there. Now I can only imagine him in his usual ill-fitting, er, comfortable mode of dress, maybe he’ll put on that blazer of an undetermined color. I can see him now, sitting out on the front porch, waiting for me to drive up. I’ll have to put my Sweetie in the back seat to make room for him up front. I feel like I’m planning a strategy for taking an overgrown mutt to the vet. Paws on the dash, head out the window, tongue flapping in the wind! Oh boy. What am I getting myself into? Okay, it won’t be that bad, I tell myself, though I know that as he waits for me, he is reaching into his blazer pocket and pulling out, what, to munch on? an old sandwich, sigh.

Actually, I half tell my Sweetie, but mostly I’m talking out loud in order to convince myself, that it’s not a bad idea, after all, how often does the old fellow get out? He might have fun, well of course he’ll have fun, what I meant was, I might have fun…right? I can see it though. The talkative genius that he is, he’ll stumble around the crowd but eventually he’ll be the life of the party, I just know it. He’ll start off quiet but will insist on sitting at the edge of the dance floor for a better view. He’ll hypothesize about dance steps, he’ll expound the similarities of tango and some Norwegian wedding ritual, he’ll attract a small crowd of the curious, they’ll sit with him for a spell, find that he’s largely inoffensive, and then start to have a laugh or two with him.

I bet that within a few tandas, he will have figured out some unknown-to-me secret rhythm in the tango! Oh, leave it to him to know the complexities of the steps and find some pattern that he can replicate and, and, and I don’t even know if he can sing, though he can talk a good line! He’ll probably want to dance with each and every one of the women there. They might even learn a thing or two, as I imagine each of his dances will be a running commentary on the peculiar connection of tango, women’s shoes, and the odd keyboard configuration of the bandoneon.

I know, I know, he’ll be the eccentric breath of fresh air for the party and they will insist that he come back for the next one. I just know it. Well, I have a date with Destiny, I’ll let you know how it went! Cheers!

[newbie]

He's the same uncle who taught you karate when you were a kid, isn't he? By painting the fence of his backyard.

[Tango-ne]

He's the same uncle who taught you karate when you were a kid, isn't he? By painting the fence of his backyard.

Naw, that's my aunt! I'm having a tea with her for Sunday brunch! Yikes, tomorrow. You'll understand why Uncle H lives by himself in that big ol' house when I tell you about Auntie M!

Now if there was only a similar tango teacher! Wax on, wax off!

[Tango-ne]

Ok, my evening with Uncle H. It was totally not what I expected. (But then, expectations are not what Uncle H is about!)

We went to pick Uncle H up at his home with the thought that we would invite him out for supper before the dance, but he was nowhere to be seen. He never answered the knocking at the door(s), and he has no phone so there was no reaching him inside (when he needs to call me, he runs down the street to use the pay phone!)

We wandered around his yard for a while, but aside from a multitude of cats a la Hemingway House, there was no activity outside. I lead my sweetie around the precarious arrangement of Uncle's precious junk in the yard and eventually decided that we would just wait on the porch for while, it being a little early still, and the evening air being very warm and inviting.

Now a word about Uncle's house, and his porch in particular. Everything is made of wood and the place has had very little upkeep over the years...decades. The porch roof leaks everywhere, pigeons roost in the eaves leaving strategic piles of shall I say guano? on the porch. Floor boards are rotted and in some places missing altogether. It is quite a hazard getting to any one of his doors. And in a rain? Well, let's just say that I don't close my umbrella until I'm inside!

My Sweetie and I just stood there, arm in arm for a while, the scene from the porch is actually quite dynamic, with all the stuff in the front yard, and all the visual texture of the old house. Sweetie started to sing a bit of a tango tune..."ba dum dum DA, ba dum dum DA...tra la laaaa LA...tra la laaaaaaa LA!" We got in a small embrace and gingerly made our way around that danger porch, tapping playfully around the piles of guano, literally hopping over the holes in the floor boards, and making moves only where the ancient wood had not softened. The holey floorboard tango! We ended with a dramatic pose on steps...and I realised that I had mostly had my eyes half closed and only the sound of applause made me realize that we had an audience, Uncle H had been watching us from the front yard.

Uncle H? I had to do a double take. What the heck was he wearing? I'll tell you what he was wearing (and at first I thought it was a dress! But he had been covering up the surprise with a big floral apron, which he took off with a flourish)...and revealed, an equally garish, foral ensemble of loud bermuda shorts and a hawaiian shirt, complete with hemp sandals and, hmmm...dare I say he smelled coconutty? Oh no, so familiar! It's suntan lotion! He smiled, I remember now how he had always said that he loves the summers here for the one fact that the women around would start putting on coconut scented suntan lotion...made him feel like he was on a vacation, he would say. Oh boy, this was going to be interesting!

And with that, he toddled off to get into my truck, yes, I drive around a bully of a diesel pickup truck. My Sweetie just shakes her head, I temper my loud vehicle with a very timid driving style, so I feel that I have compromised. Uncle H has jumped into the middle of the front seat, he's like a kid going on a field trip. Ok, then, here we go, I thought. Cheers!

[Angel HI]

Now if there was only a similar tango teacher! Wax on, wax off!
Oh, but there is, indeed!!

[Tango-ne]

Okay, I have a minute to tell you the rest of Friday night's milonga with Uncle H...because I learned a HUGE lesson there:

So we grabbed a quick salad at the local pub and got to the Milonga in good spirits, Uncle H, my Sweetie and I. Oh I can't tell you how much I both dreaded and loved being there! With the lessons from the past week still fresh in my head, I was eager to get in a little practice using some civility this time...and walking with Elegance, turning with Modesty, ochoing with Humility, and stepping with Simplicity. And I was ready to just let the music carry me...I closed my eyes..oh this was going to be a wonderfu-...<tugging at my sleeze, coconut essence tickling my nose, Uncle H wants some attention> sigh.

"I'm going to be sitting over there ok? Out of the way, you just do what you do, don't worry about me." He winked and I watched him make his way across the floor. I lost him in the crowds after a minute. But no worry I thought, and after a moment of hellos with friends at the table, I offered my hand to my Sweetie and lead her to the dance floor.

The music...ah, the music. I let it wash over me..."think no thoughts"...I tried to relax..."mind of no mind." Let me interject something here. I understand that meditation is both easy and hard. It's easy because all you have to do is stop talking in your head...but for that reason it is also hard. Ditto for tango. I started to move, not because the music moved me, but because I felt like I was standing there too long. Then I stopped, because I wanted the music to move me, but when I stopped, I confused my Sweetie, so I started stepping again, and remembered my second instructor's words, "when in doubt, do the basic and recompose yourself." So I found myself in the basic 8 step...over and over and over again. And when I realized that I was stuck in a pattern, I switched over into back ochos...and got stuck there for a while. Then, then, then...the rest is a merciful blur and I found myself sitting back at the table with my Sweetie looking at me with raised eyebrows. I exhaled mightily, feeling like a deflating balloon. My Sweetie is now being asked to dance, she looks at me and I give a feeble smile. Let me sulk for a while, dear, go have fun...I tried several more dances with other partners, but my confidence was gone and I felt I was just repeating too much of the same, Simplicity? Modesty? Try "boring". Humility, yeah, plenty of it. Elegence? not without confidence!

I watched listlessly for a while then I smelled the coconut again. Uncle H had found his way to me. I looked over at him expecting him to have one of his goofy dog expressions, just waiting to have the stick thrown again, but I was very surprised when I saw his face. It was very serious. Doubly so because of the contrast of his expression against his playful clothing.

"One observation, my boy," he said. "You are holding yourself back."
I smiled weakly, thinking, that's Modesty, uncle.
"It's making you a boring dancer," he continued.
I grimaced slightly, thinking, that's Simplicity, uncle.
"And you suggest...what?" I asked.
"Just remember all that you have learned from me in the last couple of days...and you will do fine!" he said encouragingly, the twinkle returned to his eyes. He smiled.
"Uh...learned?" I questioned...thinking back to my time with Uncle H yesterday and earlier today.
"Let me ask you, what do you think of my yard? Cluttered and messy right? But very interesting to experience, ne? I saw you wandering around there with your woman while waiting for me. Variety creates interest! Apply that in your dancing. Otherwise you are just walking from A to B to the time of the music. Make the path interesting. What else? You climbed the outside of my house, a path both adventurous and dangerous, it's not easy, ne? Same with your tango, you don't need to take the easy path, but you must be familiar with what you are doing. Just like climbing the drainpipe, I know that you have learned to reach with your hands and support your weight with your feet. I see you know to keep your body weight close to the house as you take the adventurous route. Ergo same with your dancing, make it adventurous...for yourself, but be confident in your movements otherwise you will fall. Just loosen up and stop holding back. Remember what you learned on my deck, all full of holes and covered with poop, you I sw you dancing with such fun, you were carefree and stepping lightly and being daring, yet, you never misstepped, or fell through a hole, or soiled your shoes, ne? Attitude is everything, my boy. And the adjustment you need is to let go a little and have fun, thereby you will make it fun!"

I was pouting. Yet inside, I felt very hopeful. I can't believe that Uncle is such a...what? Character! Teacher? Friend? Hmmmm...lesson well taken. I look up and see that Sweetie is without a partner. I envision the dancefloor as Uncle's front porch and take up beside her...ready to make it fun!

And it was. Thank you Uncle H! Cheers.

[Tango-ne]

Lesson and practica time tonight!

Infront of me I am laying out complexity. It is a visual map of what I've learned so far in terms of steps and figures.

The interesting thing is that most of the figures start off from the same base. It's like biology, tracing lineages. In the middle of the sheet I've drawn my two feet. Now depending on which foot the weight is on starts off different moves.

Elsewhere in this forum, I've read that there is only a forward step, a cross in front step, a side step, a crossed behind step, and a backstep.

Add to that pivots and I think that covers off a huge number of figures that I've learned. Anyways, I thought I'd put it all down on paper and survey the field.

Pacing and pausing are two of the dance factors. Musicality is the third, but I'll put that down to stepping and fast vs. slow steps.

Ok...no time to be typing...I'm switching over to drawing for the afternoon. Then practicing tonight!

Oh, as a side note, there's a clip that I've been watching wherein I am getting a little freaked out because at the edge of the crowd, just out of view, there seems to be a figure indicating that there's some Important Concept being demonstrated by the couple on the clip. I get the message from this ghostly presence that I should watch carefully, so I do. I don't get it yet, but there's something there...I'll see if the answer comes to me sooner or later. I'll let you know what that was all about, cheers!

[Tango-ne]

Hmmm...

I'm thinking about the woman's lower torso, as my B/R instructor used to say (much to the merriment of the men in the room) her "lower box", meaning the pelvic frame.

In this particular clip I see that the man guides her hips around. And that the Woman's sidestep is where he can decide to pivot her to walk forwards or backwards. He seems very aware of which way he moves her hips so that the next step she takes is forwards or backwards. Then, either forwards or backwards, he easily pivots her mid-step to a sidestep and casually starts mullonets, but I see that it's all in being aware of which way her hips are facing and which way she is then led. To the dancefloor, I say!

[bordertangoman]

Hmmm...

I'm thinking about the woman's lower torso, as my B/R instructor used to say (much to the merriment of the men in the room) her "lower box", meaning the pelvic frame.

In this particular clip I see that the man guides her hips around. And that the Woman's sidestep is where he can decide to pivot her to walk forwards or backwards. He seems very aware of which way he moves her hips so that the next step she takes is forwards or backwards. Then, either forwards or backwards, he easily pivots her mid-step to a sidestep and casually starts mullonets, but I see that it's all in being aware of which way her hips are facing and which way she is then led. To the dancefloor, I say!

mullonets? some kind of fish isn't it?

[Tango-ne]

Nope, it's a move where the man generally stays put as a pivot around which the woman is lead in somewhat of a box around the man, in general the woman's step pattern goes: Forward step, side step, back step, side step, repeat...At least that's the theory, as for the practice? well, I'm practicing! I'm glad to share the little tango knowledge that I have! Cheers!

<The fish you are speaking of is the moulinette, I believe! :D>

[Ampster]

Nope, it's a move where the man generally stays put as a pivot around which the woman is lead in somewhat of a box around the man, in general the woman's step pattern goes: Forward step, side step, back step, side step, repeat...At least that's the theory, as for the practice? well, I'm practicing! I'm glad to share the little tango knowledge that I have! Cheers!

<The fish you are speaking of is the moulinette, I believe! :D>


The step you refer to is a Molinete, or Giro. The fish is good too with mayo and buttered vegetables and Jasmine rice on the side.

[Angel HI]

The step you refer to is a Molinete, or Giro.
The step is more accurately 'both' rather than "or". A molinete creates a giro. (windmill...same name in jazz dance for a grapevine in a circle; giro...rotation).

And, BTW, the fish is good with mayo, buttered vegetables and Jasmine rice on the side. http://www.freesmileys.org/smileys/eatdrink020.gif

[bordertangoman]

nah the fish is mullet, the recipes sound good but it does help to know the difference betweeen a fish and a windmill! ;)

a moulinette is a small mill, for grinding food.

[newbie]

Nope, it's a move where the man generally stays put as a pivot around which the woman is lead in somewhat of a box around the man, in general the woman's step pattern goes: Forward step, side step, back step, side step, repeat...At least that's the theory, as for the practice? well, I'm practicing! I'm glad to share the little tango knowledge that I have! Cheers!


Yes a mullonet, very common sequence in A.T.
In Northern hemisphere they're doing it CW and in southern hemisphere CCW.

[bordertangoman]

Yes a mullonet, very common sequence in A.T.
In Northern hemisphere they're doing it CW and in southern hemisphere CCW.

in the southern hemisphere its a tenollum

[elisedance]

Okay, I have a minute to tell you the rest of Friday night's milonga with Uncle H...because I learned a HUGE lesson there:

So we grabbed a quick salad at the local pub and got to the Milonga in good spirits, Uncle H, my Sweetie and I. Oh I can't tell you how much I both dreaded and loved being there! With the lessons from the past week still fresh in my head, I was eager to get in a little practice using some civility this time...and walking with Elegance, turning with Modesty, ochoing with Humility, and stepping with Simplicity. And I was ready to just let the music carry me...I closed my eyes..oh this was going to be a wonderfu-...<tugging at my sleeze, coconut essence tickling my nose, Uncle H wants some attention> sigh.

"I'm going to be sitting over there ok? Out of the way, you just do what you do, don't worry about me." He winked and I watched him make his way across the floor. I lost him in the crowds after a minute. But no worry I thought, and after a moment of hellos with friends at the table, I offered my hand to my Sweetie and lead her to the dance floor.

The music...ah, the music. I let it wash over me..."think no thoughts"...I tried to relax..."mind of no mind." Let me interject something here. I understand that meditation is both easy and hard. It's easy because all you have to do is stop talking in your head...but for that reason it is also hard. Ditto for tango. I started to move, not because the music moved me, but because I felt like I was standing there too long. Then I stopped, because I wanted the music to move me, but when I stopped, I confused my Sweetie, so I started stepping again, and remembered my second instructor's words, "when in doubt, do the basic and recompose yourself." So I found myself in the basic 8 step...over and over and over again. And when I realized that I was stuck in a pattern, I switched over into back ochos...and got stuck there for a while. Then, then, then...the rest is a merciful blur and I found myself sitting back at the table with my Sweetie looking at me with raised eyebrows. I exhaled mightily, feeling like a deflating balloon. My Sweetie is now being asked to dance, she looks at me and I give a feeble smile. Let me sulk for a while, dear, go have fun...I tried several more dances with other partners, but my confidence was gone and I felt I was just repeating too much of the same, Simplicity? Modesty? Try "boring". Humility, yeah, plenty of it. Elegence? not without confidence!

I watched listlessly for a while then I smelled the coconut again. Uncle H had found his way to me. I looked over at him expecting him to have one of his goofy dog expressions, just waiting to have the stick thrown again, but I was very surprised when I saw his face. It was very serious. Doubly so because of the contrast of his expression against his playful clothing.

"One observation, my boy," he said. "You are holding yourself back."
I smiled weakly, thinking, that's Modesty, uncle.
"It's making you a boring dancer," he continued.
I grimaced slightly, thinking, that's Simplicity, uncle.
"And you suggest...what?" I asked.
"Just remember all that you have learned from me in the last couple of days...and you will do fine!" he said encouragingly, the twinkle returned to his eyes. He smiled.
"Uh...learned?" I questioned...thinking back to my time with Uncle H yesterday and earlier today.
"Let me ask you, what do you think of my yard? Cluttered and messy right? But very interesting to experience, ne? I saw you wandering around there with your woman while waiting for me. Variety creates interest! Apply that in your dancing. Otherwise you are just walking from A to B to the time of the music. Make the path interesting. What else? You climbed the outside of my house, a path both adventurous and dangerous, it's not easy, ne? Same with your tango, you don't need to take the easy path, but you must be familiar with what you are doing. Just like climbing the drainpipe, I know that you have learned to reach with your hands and support your weight with your feet. I see you know to keep your body weight close to the house as you take the adventurous route. Ergo same with your dancing, make it adventurous...for yourself, but be confident in your movements otherwise you will fall. Just loosen up and stop holding back. Remember what you learned on my deck, all full of holes and covered with poop, you I sw you dancing with such fun, you were carefree and stepping lightly and being daring, yet, you never misstepped, or fell through a hole, or soiled your shoes, ne? Attitude is everything, my boy. And the adjustment you need is to let go a little and have fun, thereby you will make it fun!"

I was pouting. Yet inside, I felt very hopeful. I can't believe that Uncle is such a...what? Character! Teacher? Friend? Hmmmm...lesson well taken. I look up and see that Sweetie is without a partner. I envision the dancefloor as Uncle's front porch and take up beside her...ready to make it fun!

And it was. Thank you Uncle H! Cheers.

I'm not sure anyone read this Tango-ne - its very fine, there is nothing like the lead that will do the 'dance of the tangled garden'. Though, of course, I prefer tangled roses and briars to rusting washing machines and broken pots ;)

Wish you had posted this in the General dance thread since we could all benefit.
:friend:

[bordertangoman]

I'm not sure anyone read this BTM - its very fine, there is nothing like the lead that will do the 'dance of the tangled garden'. Though, of course, I prefer tangled roses and briars to rusting washing machines and broken pots ;)

Wish you had posted this in the General dance thread since we could all benefit.
:friend:

WRONGLY ascribed its tango-ne's concoction; and I have read it
(very good it is too)

[elisedance]

There, fixed it. Now your post makes no sense BTM :D

[bordertangoman]

There, fixed it. Now your post makes no sense BTM :D

no-0ne will notice, do they ever make sense?

[elisedance]

....good point! Well, now at least you are consistent :)

[Tango-ne]

I have a quick moment to follow up on my morning tea conversation with Auntie M, this past Sunday, on the weekend of the night milonga night with Uncle H. Well, a small confession here, the reason the planned brunch turned into a "tea" was that, er, I was rather "tired" from the milonga and slept in rather late...it's getting to be winter and the morning sun doesn't shine in until after 8am, but that's no excuse! (I didn't get up until well after that!) I really needed to be better for Auntie M, and I let her down. I missed her brunch, and only managed to rush in for a tea. I feel guilty, and with my memory of her sitting there alone waiting for me... I feel even worse. Lower than a snake's belly sort of worse. Especially because I got so much out of our talk during that visit! And totally related to Tango too!

Just as a little background, they tell me that Auntie M and Uncle H were together for most of my childhood. All I can remember is playing in that clunky old house that Uncle H lives in, and yes, back then, probably with Auntie M's attention, the place was very neat and tidy. Sometime thereafter, something happened between them and now, nearly two decades later, my memories of those times of seeing them in the same room are like dusty staged black and white photos from a forgotten era; familiar, yet not from my time. I can't even remember a time when Auntie M had sight. Yes, she's blind, and I was late! Sigh. Call me a heel!

So I ran up the path to Auntie M's care house. She lives in a wonderful arrangement of small cottages designed around a central activity room. There are staff members there who are the caretakers of the home, and every Sunday they put on a brunch...don't be late though, because they put everything away by noon. Ah, so you see, it was sometime thereafter that I arrived under the humiliating glare of the staff. Auntie M was as calm as ever though. I know she heard my big diesel truck pull up, because she was outside in the garden with a spare chair ready and tea on. A quick hello on her cheek, and she reached for my hand. I pulled the empty chair over to sit beside her, so that she could keep holding my hand. She liked that.

She didn't say anything yet. She liked to sit close like this for a while. Eventually she took off her dark glasses and, can I say, "stared" out into the garden with those white eyes. She remained quite still but I could feel that she was lightly twitching her foot. I guessed that she wanted to get up and stretch her legs around the garden. I squeezed her hand and stood up. She got up with me.

"The roses are all but gone, but their scent stays with me as a memory that I can enjoy." she said.

I led her over to the pruned off rose bushes, feeling guilty again that I must have been so busy that I missed visiting Auntie when they were in bloom. She inhaled deeply and tilted her head back. I could almost imagine them there in full perfume, and could share in Auntie's memory. "And there were little petunias all along the edge..." I walked her along the grass through the garden, carefully guiding her around the gardeners who looked at me in disdain as they prepared the garden for the winter; yes, yes, I am here now, the negletful nephew! I took Auntie's arm and we went from garden patch to garden patch and each time we stopped, she would rock gently from foot to foot and tell me the memory of what blossomed there this past summer. It was wonderful and I lost track of time.

"Oh!" She said, "the tea has gotten cold now! I'll call for more." It had been more than an hour since we stood up from our chairs. The garden covers quite a bit of the grounds and we had walked all the way to the lake's shore.
"That's okay Auntie, let's head this way..." I said, both not wanting to seem like being in a rush, but wanting to start making our way back to the main facility.

"How is H these days?" she asked out of the blue.
"Huh?" She caught me off guard.
"He's still putting on that coconut tanning lotion, eh? I can smell it on you. You must have seen him in the last couple of days, ne? The sentimental old fool," she smiled. "Every summer I would bring out that lotion, and every summer he would complain of its sweet scent..." Call me romantic, but I felt a small lump in my throat. I never knew that the "women who wear coconut sunscreen" that Uncle H refered to was actually his memories of Auntie M.
"I...he..." I stammered, "we went to a tango dance the other night."
Auntie M didn't answer. We were busy crossing a narrowing in the path where flat stones had been placed in a dry creek. Auntie must have the path memorized in her mind, because she didn't falter once, even as I led her from stone to stone. I continued on with relating my adventures in tango. Gulp, I have been taking lessons for a year, and that was the first time I mentioned it to Auntie...meaning, the last time I visited was...yikes! Guilty, guilty, guilty!

I told her about my lessons, and my funny instructors, and the world of dance and the characters that inhabit that place called the "Ball Room". I related how I had been struggling with memorizing steps, and getting into the mood of tango, and the character of tango, and the attitude of tango. By then we were nearing the cottages again. I wanted to tell her about how Uncle H had helped me loosen up, but I didn't know how to put it delicately so she wouldn't be offended. But she came to the rescue by changing the subject a bit.

"What did your lovely woman have to say about that "loosening up"?" she asked, standing again at the place of the roses, now...er, "looking" at me. It's kind of creepy when she does that, like she has moments of clear vision or something.

"My Sweetie?" I pondered, "Er, she had fun...and I had fun. Yeah, after Uncle H's reminder of my lessons from his garden and porch, I had fun, I loosened up, let go a little. I remembered his comments about variety and danger and daring and having fun. So yes, I had fun."
"She had fun though...?" Auntie M repeated. I thought back for a moment. At least I thought my Sweetie had fun...didn't she? Hmmmm, well, she didn't say anything negative. We were stepping wildly and dangerously. I kept bumping into people, but that was half the fun...no? Weren't we laughing together? It was together, yes? At least I was laughing...Yikes again...
"By your silence I think I have my answer...my boy, I have a gift for you that may help..." She pulled me a little closer and I leaned over so that she could whisper in my ear. Oh, the wisdom of the ages, from her lips to my ears...I felt a great connection with her, which is why I was more than a little surprised when she said, "I dropped it off for you by the lake...go find it."
Wha-??! Auntie!

<I have to run to a meeting again, but when I have a moment later, I'll tell you what I found there on the beach. It helped IMMEASURABLY toward understanding my philosophy of leading! On the plus side, my computer is behaving and I have not lost much text since starting this little chapter! Cheers!>

[Captain Jep]

Hah dont leave us in suspense! Been enjoying these later episodes ..

Reminds me of the following ..

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
         But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
         Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.

(TS Eliot "Burnt Norton")

[elisedance]

thanks for that CJ - nothing like a bit of TSE with a cup of silent tea that just stares at me....

[Captain Jep]

thanks for that CJ - nothing like a bit of TSE with a cup of silent tea that just stares at me....

We aim to please :cool:

Me? I shall now roll my trousers up and eat a peach..

[Tango-ne]

The Gift from Auntie M

"Auntie?" I asked, wondering if I heard her correctly. But she just nodded, and said she would wait for me. I led her back to a chair and made sure she was comfy before I headed back down towards to the lake.

So she dropped something for me? How did she know where she dropped it? Oh yes, I thought, the beach is sandy, she probably knew by the feel of the ground, or by the sound of the waves. I made my way down to the beach, but as I walked, I thought about her question to me...about whether my Sweetie enjoyed tango-ing with me. I was sure that we were having a fun time, but in retrospect, a nagging doubt started creeping into my memory of the evening. I remember she was laughing, but was it because she was having fun? Or because I was loosening up and goofing around? Come to think of it, I was doing a lot of nonsense moves, like spinning her around and throwing in a few jive steps sometimes. Well at least she was a good sport, but I concluded that it was probably not the type of dancing that she was looking forward to! I cringed inwardly. Oh Uncle! I thought I had cracked the secret of the tango...that I had loosened up! On the other hand, he DID say that I had to have an understanding of the basic moves that I wanted to do...a component that in my zeal I had neglected, I'm afraid. So...what was this "gift" that Auntie had dropped for me?

I stood at the edge of the clearing where the woods opened up to the beach. The sand was packed down and moist, so it was easy to retrace our steps. I scanned over the area where we had been walking, our footsteps went all over the place! What were we talking about then...hmm? Oh yes, Auntie was listening to the seagulls in the air. She kept turning around and around. So where did she drop the thing? I looked around, but didn't see anything immediate. I sighed and stepped down onto the beach. The waves lapped gently onto the sand, but there was a good expanse of it beyond the waves. Let's see...I retraced the steps we had made. It was a little confusing for sure. I was all over the place! It's a wonder that I didn't trip up Auntie! What was I thinking, leading around a blind old woman so carelessly!

Ok, around and around we walked, then a straight stretch was out there...hmmm, still no gift to be found...then we walked back towards the woods, made a few turns, headed back to the water?! and then back up the beach. Oh boy, I didn't realize what a convoluted path we had walked! No wonder Auntie was tired! Then I was at the end of the trail and off the beach, no closer to finding what Auntie had dropped. I looked over across the beach again. Nope, nothing but our footprints in the sand. I was wondering if I was looking for something smaller? I didn't notice Auntie drop anything, but I looked closely again. Wait a second! I was taken aback. I couldn't believe what I saw. It couldn't be!

I looked back on the path I had traced, me with open mouth now in disbelief. Our steps showed up better than before, now that I had walked over the same path again. That can't be! I thought again as I ran back onto the sand to the start of the footprints. I followed them again...and suddenly I found what Auntie had left for me. I still can't believe it, but there it was!

Auntie had left behind the footsteps of a tango dance in the sand! There was no doubt! I retraced the footprints. We stood at the beginning for a minute, Auntie was shifting her weight back and forth, then I had stepped sideways and she followed and I stepped forward and she had moved back, then I had turned and she had turned with me. This was impossible! I didn't even remember doing those steps! We were talking about seagulls and listening to them calling to each other. Yet the footprints were undeniable. It was physically right there! I traced over them again! Oh yes! It was real alright. I ran back up to the cottages to find Auntie.

She was sitting there patiently for me. I slowed down to catch my breath and considered the implications of what I had discovered. She turned her face towards me and smiled. I smiled back.

"Auntie- " I started. "I don't know what to make of it."
"My dear boy," she said, "it's quite obvious. From the minute we stood up, I could tell that you have the makings of a great dancer. You could tell that I wanted to get up out of the chair, you gave a slight squeeze of my hand and communicated very clearly that we were going to stand...you led me nonverbally through the garden and around all the gardeners here. You lead beautifully, by the way. Just a subtle movement and a weight change and I could tell where you are going to head."
"But we were just talking..." I protested.
"Indeed," she continued. "Your body knows what to do, you led me around obstacles while your mind was occupied, you stopped me from tripping over, you knew when to shift my weight around so that I could find those flagstones crossing the creek, you led me down some very tricky trails to the beach..."
"But Auntie, you know the tango?"
"Oh, I know a lot of things. But more importantly, YOU know some important things too, you just don't realize it. Most importantly for now, you know how to lead naturally. I wanted to dance, and you gave me a dance. You let me dance. You led, I danced. Get it?"
Get it? Do I? The evidence was right there in the sand, I guess. Auntie did dance, I just didn't know it. And I kept her from tripping. I was leading. Oh! So much to consider!
"I'm tired now," Auntie said at last. "It's been ages since I've danced around so much. Thank you so much. I feel satisfied. I want you to remember that. Okay? Let your woman dance, lead her so that she can, and she will be satisfied. Really. Now, I must get inside..." Her aide magically appeared and she let herself be led away.
"I'll see you again soon, okay," I called after her. She waved without turning around. "And thank you, Auntie!" I don't think she heard me as she disappeared inside. Thank you indeed Auntie!

<Even as I write this, I still can't believe it had happened! How could Auntie have done all that? How does she know the tango? Was I really leading without knowing? So many questions! I feel weird inside, as if things are not exactly how they appear. Instead of driving home just then, I pointed my big blue truck towards Uncle H's place. I had a few things to ask him...but now that you know a little bit about Uncle H, you can appreciate when I say that even today I'm still puzzling over his riddle-like answers from that visit. Let me explain...>

[Tango-ne]

Wherein Uncle H adds to the Confusion.

I got to Uncle's house mid-afternoon and had to shake my head at the rambling old house. I can't believe that I actually climb up on the outside of that house...what must the neighbours think? Luckily I saw some movement in the backyard so I was spared the decision of whether to make the climb again. Instead of walking through the backyard though, I decided to drive around back to the lane. And I'm glad I did, because though I did not have the intention of spying on him, that's exactly what I ended up doing. Imagine that! Spying on people from inside what must be the noisest diesel truck for miles around. But there I was, and as I rattled up, I caught glimpses of Uncle in the backyard. One moment hidden behind some junk, the next darting between columns of appliances, then disappearing again behind the trunks of those huge trees in his backyard. It didn't help that I was moving in the truck as well...navigating the narrow lane (for the truck!) with one eye while keeping the other on Uncle's strange antics. I idled to a stop just at the edge of his yard.

Yup, no doubt about it. Uncle was practicing dance steps from clearing to clearing. Not only that, but wonder of wonders...I could see those ubiquitous white earbud wires hanging from his head. Uncle was using an iPod! Even I don't have an iPod. I felt so old school! That explained why he didn't hear the truck. But what the heck was he doing? Time for some answers, I thought as I jumped out of the truck. Uncle finally saw me and excited motioned me to come sit with him at the gazebo. He had a white towel around his neck and was wiping off a lot of sweat. Man, he must have been at it for a while.

"So Uncle," I smiled. He had brought his feet up and was sitting almost yoga style on the chair. Sheesh, he even had dance shoes on?! Oh, what a sight...image...old wiry man, crazy white hair, round eyeglasses, white towel around his neck, dirty white undershirt (sweaty), ditto for the boxer shorts, no socks and black dance shoes. Speaking of neighbours, it's a good thing the backyard was so full of junk that Uncle just blended right in.
"You inspired me," he winked. I saw the soles of his shoes. They were worn right through! Hmmmmm. So many questions! Where to start?
"I went to visit Auntie today," I ventured. I usually avoided talking about each other to them, but I really needed some explanations.
"Oh?" Uncle said. I expected him to freeze up...or smile wistfully...or get up in anger (as in "how dare you mention her!")...but he did none of that. He just sat there waiting for me to continue. In my mind I could see his eyes widen a little, getting ready to be receptors for little nuggets of information from which he would summon forth some Greater Meaning and surprise the heck out of me by making a totally u