Maybe the musicians will slam me for this (and possibly the dancers too!) but the score is to music as labanotation is to ballet.
I agree, certainly.
It begs the question as to the purpose of the score. Musical notation is a language, and it both serves to document the composers intention, and is used by performers to realise that intention - the result being the music that we hear. Arguably, there is no music until someone plays it.
But here's something on which tangomonkey and I could agree: given a functional technical ability to read the score at all, the music that is latent on the printed page can manifest itself in the viewer's inner-ear. If I were cast ashore on a desert island and had no instruments at my disposal, but scores of some favourite pieces, then a glance at the page would bring the piece alive to me with complete clarity. However, if you presented me with a score, even a simple one, of a piece that I did not know, then it would take me a long time to work out what the piece would sound like. The rhythm I would get straight away. I'd probably have to hum through the melody a couple of times, and slowly, and then look at the bass part to start to develop a sense of the harmonic shifts. I'd put the piece together, bit by bit, but by no means could I just 'play' the piece internally, and 'hear' what a polished performance would sound like. I would say that my own limited skill in this area is a developed form of musical memory, coupled with the limited reading ability, but only really to prompt my memory.
Another comparison would be the relationship between a dramatic performance of a great play and the script. Most people would agree that drama works best on the stage, but I can be King Lear, or Hamlet, or on a good day, Romeo, just by opening my battered copy of
The Complete Works and without ever leaving my armchair. I could even 'do' the other parts too - a monologue, but I fear that I am not much of an actor, and no one is ever likely to pay to hear
me solioquise!
Now without doubt, there
are riches to be found in studying the text, and to study texts in great detail is of interest to some, and a profession to others. So it is with music: musicians and musicologists alike study scores to better their understanding of the music. However, the tools with which we
can study almost any tango song or one by, say, Schubert, are different. In the latter case we have a text - a score - as well as a performing tradition, but in the case of the historical tango orchestras' work we have 'just' the performance. The same piece may have been recorded by the same orchestra several times, and sometimes using the same arrangement, and sometimes different. But no score, and largely, no performing tradition. One exception might be the work of Color Tango, whose realisations of some of Pugliese's work are incredibly faithful to the original notes, and the manner of performance. I wonder whether
they notated their arrangements?
So the means by which we approach the tango repertoire is aurally. If we really are so cloth-eared that we need a piano reduction of a 'generic' rendition of the piece to identify the musical elements in use, then so be it, but by and large, we do not. For those with the skill, it may be fun to
create a score, faithful to the performance, and it is perhaps then easier to compare the subtle differences that exist in the repetitions of the material that we conventionally label as Section A, or whatever, rather than to rely on memory, or flitting back and forwards through the recording. But a familiarity with the music can only help us in dancing, but we must approach the music with our ears: only then can we
do anything with what we hear.