"Will You Be My Victim?": The Last Milonga At Nora's Tango Week

 

And so Nora's Tango Week came to an end last week. As I went to one of the last milongas I went early to be sure I could get a seat. I arrived fifteen minutes before the doors opened and there was already a long line of tangueros in front of me (photo).

Geez, you folks are crazy for your tango.

And then the doors opened, people scrambled to get their seats and before I could even get to mine people were on the dance floor dancing to their first tango.

The performances were awesome and I had many friends there, so it was a great evening. But one of the highlights of the week happened a few hours later when a lovely senior woman walked up to me and asked "Would you be my victim?"

That was one of the best invitations to tango I've ever received. Not that I was the victim, though, as it quickly become obvious that my new friend was an excellent dancer. I felt more like she was my victim. It turns out she's a French artist (a painter) who does oils and exhibits frequently.

You meet the most fascinating people in tango.

Packed Milonga At Nora's Tango Weekend

 

Nora's Tango Weekend was awesome. I have many great stories to tell this week. In the meantime, I wanted to post this photo, which was last week.

This photo is of the opening night milonga, which was a blast.

Tonight we had numerous perforances because it was closing night for the Tango Weekend. The place was packed & the maestros amazing.

Inside Our Russian Stacking Doll: Tango At the De Young Museum

 

Over the past year and a half the only thing that has boomed more in SF than the price of gas is tango. When I switched to tango a year & 9 months ago there were usually a couple of tango events going on each night. I just took a quick look at TangoMango.org & in the Bay area today there are twelve tango events (classes, practicas and milongas). This boom was very evident Friday night as the tango community descended upon the De Young Museum for a great milonga organized by Terence Clarke and Beatrice Bowles (great job, Terry, Bea and the De Young team!).

I was hoping there would be enough dancers there to give the milonga a party feel. I need not have worried--the De Young was packed! The dance floor felt more like bumper cars at times, but it was well worth it. Not only was the De Young packed with tango dancers, but our milonga turned into a live work of art as the museum-goers lined two and three deep to watch everyone tango. Even the main stair case was packed with kids and adults watching in fun. I finished one tango and a lovely couple came up to my partner and me and said "you both look so happy!". Well, that's because we were. We encouraged the couple to try a tango, but they just wanted to watch.

And then it was time for an excellent tango performance by Nora Dinzelbacher and Ed Neale. It was during their performance I realized that the milonga felt like we were living inside a never-ending Russian stacking doll (you know, one of those Babooshka nesting things) because there was one work of art inside another. Here we were in the incomparable San Francisco and inside her the green forests of the Golden Gate Park and inside her the shocking copper beauty of the De Young Museum and inside her our joyful milonga where Nora and Ed were tangoing passionately in front of Richter's wild piece, Strontium (seen in the photo above).

Strontium, by the way, is a chemical element that can be combustible. Pretty much sums up Friday's milonga at the De Young.

Why I Secretly Love Dancing With Beginners

I'll always remember my first milonga (Cell Space), where I didn't know you were supposed to dance the whole tanda with your partner. So, with every woman I danced that evening I kept repeating the same faux pas of thanking them at the end of the first song and happily walking away, wondering why each woman stood there looking at me quizzically. I did this the whole evening until a friend pointed out my error.

Ah, the joys of being a beginner tango dancer.

But now that I have more experience & dance with a lot of beginners, I'm reminded of what a challenge it can be to be a beginner tango dancer. There even seems to be this mistaken belief that the more experienced partner is doing the beginner a favor by dancing with them because how could the more experienced dancer possibly enjoy tangoing with a beginner?

Not true!

So, I want to explain in this tango blog why there are so many reasons why it's great fun dancing with beginners:

1. You get to meet great new women

2. If your partner is fun then the tango is fun, regardless of your partner's level

3. It's fun to dance with people who are so excited to be learning tango

4. As a leader, it's our responsibility to help women learn Argentine tango, just like the countless women that helped us learn

5. But it's this last reason that might be a surprise. I know I never thought of it until I took a class with Oscar Mandagaran last year. He said the best way to judge your own tango level is by your ability to make a beginner look good.

I didn't fully get this at first probably because I was such a newbie myself at the time that I wasn't good enough to make a beginner look good. And even though I'm not that much further down the tango road now, I'm starting to see what Oscar meant.

So, fellow leaders, there are a lot of great reasons why we enjoy dancing with beginners. But if you need one more, take the "Beginners Challenge" & see if your lead has developed to the point that you can make a beginner look great.

Doing the Heartbreak Tango

It is too true - tango is the vertical expression of the horizontal obsession.

The connection that is sometimes found is so precious, so tangible you can sometimes not only feel it in your bones, but taste it on your lips, melting into your tongue. The foundation of how a person dances is how they are in bed... or on the couch, the kitchen counter and elsewheres. But that's another story for another day.

Today is a story of tango heartbreak, of two beautiful people who found each other. I will call the follow Lorena and the lead James. Lorena and James fit together in a dance like two bookends, holding up the foundation of tango with their connection. They sizzled. And when the tandas and milongas were over, they'd meet up to find that they had more in common than just their dancing bones. Basically boy meets girl via tango, falls in love and move in together.

And then things started to fall apart, too slowly. As far as love goes, most people know the intrinsic one - the absorbed and too focused one. The one that is not strong enough to stand the sharing of bodies and minds with too many people beyond oneself. How does a regular person stand to see the one they love share a similar connection with someone else, even if it's for 15, 20, 30 minutes? It's like watching the one you love, fall in love with someone else, over and over. It's upsetting for some, it's painful for others and for some whose passions run deep, the insanity of jealousy eats at the very core until it spoils everything.

The fights started happening. Lorena didn't like that James would dance more than one tanda with a woman and definitely not more than two. James hated seeing her close her eyes in bliss in some other man's arms. They tried to work it out, make compromises and assuage each other's egos. But the very core of jealousy is too green, too selfish and the taste of jealousy replaced the sweetness upon their lips.

Et alors, James moved out. He now spends his time avoiding Lorena's eyes, to stare anywhere but the dance floor where her eyes are closed, her body melting into the dance... and another man's arms. And Lorena's eyes wear the colour of sadness, of what could have been if only, staring unblinking into the beautiful pose of her ex-boyfriend moving gracefully about the floor with some beautiful woman's arms wrapped around him. And they cannot avoid each other - they live in the same times, reside in the same community obsessed with tango, share the same tango friends, the same tango events they each host.

James and Lorena's story is not uncommon. I've seen it from Madrid to Amsterdam, from NYC to the Bay Area. And the longest, saddest part is that unless one of them leaves, the closure never comes. Every tango becomes heartbreaking, every milonga is tinged with memories of the person only meters away. And not to mention the awkwardness, for themselves, their friends and anyone who might trip along the way.

This is a situation I've always avoided - but very unfortunately, it takes two to tango. Just because I don't get jealous, doesn't mean my lead doesn't either. I can recall the jealous outbursts, the bad vibes, the seething undertones that may or may not go unvoiced because I connected too well with someone else, the dance too sexual. I've never been jealous - I used to laugh about not minding about sharing. But I do remember being upset that an ex danced only one tanda with me. We did the mature thing, we talked about it. And I felt better, having rationalised that I can dance with him any time I wanted anywhere else.

And what all the hugs and kisses, the embraces and caracias? Not many can handle such, seeing your significant other so well loved by all. I've always rationalised to myself, that regardless of what happens on the dance floor or off, I'm the one he chooses to be with, the one he takes home at night, the one he chooses to maintain the connection with long after the last tanda. But then again, I've been very fortunate in my loves. The breakups have always been amicable, rational, logical. It also helps that I've never been dumped so the ego isn't bruised. That and I don't have to put up with seeing them at every milonga, every class and every festival. Though really, it takes a certain type of person, of mental abilities to be rational and ignore one's significant other's tango crushes.... because as long as you're in tango, there will be tango crushes. What works is knowing that you're love is much more precious than a few tango crushes.

Be careful who you love... and where you love.

Are You Ever Too Old To Learn Tango?

I was taking the tango class at aMuse gallery recently before the milonga started when I noticed a lively group join us. I didn't know what their occasion was, but these folks had clearly brought the party with them. It was time to change partners and a lovely woman in her sixties rotated to me. She said it was her first time taking a tango class, so I asked her why she'd chosen tonight. She replied that she was there with her husband because it was his 80th birthday. He'd wanted to try tango for years and finally he decided it was time. So, a month earlier he told his wife he only wanted one present for his birthday--to take her tango dancing.

And so he did.

And when their daughter heard they were going, she and her husband drove a couple of hours from down south to share this great occasion with her parents. From the moment this party floated into the milonga until they left hours later they were like a bottle of great champagne wafting around the gallery--you couldn't help but notice the joy bubbling from them.

I had a blast watching the birthday boy and his beautiful wife tango. They weren't concerned about steps or moves or looking good for anyone else (there should be a tango blog about how to achieve this!). Actually, I'm not sure they even noticed anyone else around them--all they seemed to care about was having a great time together.

That, and holding each other in a close embrace...tango after tango.

Trio Garufa's CD Release Party

 

As you've probably noticed from this blog, I'm a big fan of Trio Garufa. So, here's a photo from their recent CD release party, which was held at Ashkenaz in Berkeley. Trio Garufa's newest CD is called "La Segunda Tradición" and they played some new tango songs from it, which were excellent. I'd definitely recommend buying a copy. This milonga was awesome and my friends & I were there tangoing until 3:30am...so much tango, such little time.

Click "Play" On The Player Below To Listen To My First TangoCast From El Pulpo's Milonga At La Pista Last Thursday

3 Reasons Why I Won't Ask A Woman To Dance

As usual, Sappho has posted a provacative question: "why won't men ask certain women to tango?". She even speculates as to the possible reasons: "Am I not good enough? Maybe he just doesn't like my style. Maybe I'm too short/tall/skinny/fat/etc." Such explanations are possible, I suppose. I know I've wondered if some women won't dance with me because I don't tango well enough. And, yet, while I can't speak for all men, there are three reasons why I won't ask a woman to dance, but they don't have anything to do with the reasons above. Women, I don't expect you to think my reasons are logical any more than you should expect us men to understand your fixation with tango shoes, but here goes.

Let me explain, one by one.
1. I won't ask a woman to tango if she's a lot better than me. This is because I feel like I'm pulling her down to my level and, anyways, how interesting can my tango be for her if I can't match her level? Yea, part of this reason probably mixes in some of my male ego, too, but I'll leave the psychoanalysis to others. I will dance with a woman that's a little better than me, but not a lot. If a woman is a lot better than me I'll wait a few months & hope I close the gap. Sometimes this works, sometimes it bombs. There's an Alicia Keys-like tanguera I've wanted to dance with for a long time, but whom I hadn't seen in 2 months. Well, I saw her at a milonga last week & even though I've gotten a little better, she's gotten a lot better! So, now she's a mile better than me & at this rate I'll probably never ask her to dance. Yeah, I know--this probably seems crazy in a lot of ways. But it's my code & I'm about as likely to change it as I am to ask for directions while driving.

2. I won't ask a woman if she's in a relationship/married & she & her partner mostly dance with themselves. Some couples love dancing with other people & some couples mainly dance with themselves. It's their prerogative & I'm cool either way, but I pay attention to this stuff. I am not going to do anything that would remotely be perceived as trying to cut in.

3. I won't ask a woman to tango if she's in a relationship/married & I'm particulary drawn to her. This all starts with the unspoken code men have about respecting boundaries with each other and their girlfriends/wives. This is really all about the Golden Rule. Don't get me wrong, there's a small percentage of would-be players out there who don't respect these boundaries, but a cautious eye is kept on them. The vast majority of men, though, honor the code. I met a very nice couple in class once & when I rotated to her I was only thinking about the move we were working on. We took each other into a close embrace and immediately we had a connection I experience only 3 or 4 times a year. I felt it from our first salida--we were in synch the whole song & our give-and-take was rare. It kind of spooked me because I normally only have that kind of connection with a woman if we're dating. The song ended and I could tell from her glance she noticed it, too. I'm not sure who had the more confused "how the hell did that just happen!?!" expression. But she's in a relationship, so even though it was the best tango I'd had in 6 months, I also knew it would be our last. I saw them at a milonga recently, but couldn't ask her to tango...a brother's gotta respect the code.

P.S.
Sappho, although I've never danced with you, I can tell from your posts that you're an excellent dancer. I doubt the guy hasn't asked you to dance because you're not a good enough dancer. As I mentioned in my Reason #1 above, you might be too good! But I need to raise one other possible reason. I know guys that won't ask a single woman to dance if they're too drawn to them. Personally, I make a point of asking these women to dance--it creates a great tango vibe. But I know guys that feel awkward dancing with women they are particularly intrigued by. So, it's possible he's taken by you. I'm sure this wouldn't be the first time you've met a guy at a milonga that's fallen for you.

5.6 Earthquake Doesn't Impress Tangueras

Of all the joys of living in San Francisco, one of the greatest is getting to sway in our earthquakes. It's not that they happen every month, but they hit often enough that you get used to them after awhile. Just like my first girfriend (Ellen, sixth grade, Mystic, CT), my first Czech beer (Pilsner Urquell, Hotel Atrium bar, July, '92), and my first time meeting my 3-month old nephew (Caimin, Savannah, GA airport), I'll always remember the excitement of my first earthquake. It struck only two weeks after I had moved here from Prague. It was a 3.something, so pretty small, but it felt like an 8.0 because it was my first. But the last one a few months ago was a 5.6 and it hit while I was driving to a milonga for my tango fix. I was sitting at a red light when suddenly my car started to buck so much I felt like I was riding a Texas bull. I thought at first my engine was giving out, but then I realized it was an earthquake. Like any other self-respecting San Franciscan, though, I don't break for such tiny shake & bakes, so, I kept driving just like nearly everyone around me. Everyone, that is, except for one car that pulled over. I knew they must be out-of-towners and, sure enough, they had Kansas plates. Funny thing about our brothers from Kansas--they don't like it when the earth starts rocking, but they don't bat an eye at a tornado. I'll take an earthquake over a twister any day. Anyway, I made it to my milonga on time & during my first tango asked my friend if she had felt the trembler. She had, but she was paying a lot more attention to her backward ochos than some quake. You gotta love San Franciscan tangueras--they've got their priorities right.

Word.

Our Tango Festivals

We come from all over the globe, driving for hours and even flying for days, arriving not tired, but excited. We leave our world behind, a world at times boring, frustrating, stressful, hectic or even wonderful and blissful, along with our homework, our spouses, the office phone/fax (some of us anyways), our kids and our chores. Regardless, when we arrive we know our other lives begin. This is the moment when our minds register that the possibilities are truly endless. For the experienced festival goer, endless dancers to hold, embrace and enjoy. For the inexperienced tanguero, infinite possibilities for screwing up. But you have to learn some time! Infinite numbers of ganchos and boleos are waiting to happen in a world that befriends, embraces, engages, amuse and entertain us with utter delight.

We are not here to compete but to enjoy. We are not arriving to be the best, but to live the most out of every tango, every milonga and every waltz, to stupefy ourselves into exhaustion and drop dead from dancing. We are not dancing to be number one, but to become a better dancer for ourselves and all of our partners, so that we may live every second of every dance to the height of its nirvana.

In night clubs we may see hip hop and salsa, merengue and bachata as sex on the floor, but in Argentine tango it is not sex, but making love, It is teasing, flirting, quarreling; it is foreplay, after play and every describable meaning in terms of passion. It is what we want it to be, what the music begs to become.

And for us, who travel far and wide for this dance, it is not just a dance. We may lose half our wallets getting there and some our hearts, but gain much more than a dance. We, tangueras and tangueros, gain a whole new network, lifelong friends, even lovers, soulmates and the ultimate - that ever elusive, most perfect connection.

For those that don't tango, the world "connection" is pithy, a bit trifle and certainly passé. For those that do tango, the connection is everything. It is the way we suddenly move, together ever so perfectly in tune, in rhythm, in meldoy and by the end of the tanda, our hearts can be felt across the room, beating as one. Take that ballroom dancers! You literally can feel your partner's heartbeat - because if there is a connection to be had, not even Emily Post can stick a hair between the two of you.

And this strange dance, ever so subtle and addicting (I call it an active form of heroine), becomes more addicting the more we learn. And there is a lot to learn. For many of us we need it at least once per [insert time quantity]. For those of us that don't live in an Argentine tango mecca (you Portland, DC, Boston, Chicago, NYC, Houston fiends!), we have to get our tango fixes in once every month (if work/budget/family allows) or once every other month. For some, once a month, a week - and if you're truly a goner - once a day. Every song you hear on the radio, TV, movies is either tango-able or not worth listening to. All your friends become either tango people or those poor schmucks living half a happy life, but only because they don't know better. Your shoes aren't even exciting anymore if you can't tango in them. Don't even get me started on your wardrobe.

Yet of all these things, these wonderful qualities of tango, cannot begin to compare to the most precious of them all - the tangueros and tangueras, the people who become OUR people. We come together completely unknown, unheard of, but put ourselves, our hearts and our passion and our souls into the loving embrace of another. We move together, we share our embraces and let our bodies connect, sweet like a hug, passionate like a kiss and carefully like a friend. We dance till dusk and take naps so that we may dance till dawn. And when we can't dance anymore we drag ourselves to breakfast... with whomever, from wherever, because we just tangoed for life.

And when we have to leave, as reality rudely interrupts, we will remember, swap photos, trade phone numbers, emails and Facebook, we keep in touch here and there. And when next we tango again, it will be as if we never stopped. Truly, we didn't stop.

Trio Garufa at the Metronome Fundraiser

So sorry I didn't post this at the time of their performance...so much tango, such little time. I'm referring to another great performance by Trio Garufa, this time at the Metronome fundraiser not too long ago. You can see in the photos above how packed it was--one shot is more literal, the other a little "Renoir-esque" (I wish I could say that was intentional, but I accidentally bumped my camera). Trio Garufa was in a particularly playful mood that night playing songs from Amelie & their signature tango, Hotel California. So often it seems orchestras are playing for tango dancers from a distance, but this night it felt like Trio Garufa was an intrinsic part of each tango. They played as if inviting us into a move and then we returned the favor. I'm not sure how they've developed this special talent (perhaps because they're excellent dancers, too?), but their songs feel incredibly organic and danceable. And to top it all off, Michelle & Murat were in town giving tango workshops & they gave an excellent performance. Their style is romantic to begin with, but it felt doubly so watching them because their love for each other is so obvious. At the end of their performance they endearingly deferred to one another as to who deserved the most credit for the loud applause from the adoring crowd. I'm not sure who appreciated whom the most this evening...was it the men and women thankful to each other for the tangos, was it the crowd so happy to get to see Michelle & Murat perform, or was it both so grateful to be able to dance to the terrific Trio Garufa late into the evening?

"I Didn't Know It Could Be Like That": Carlos & Maria Rivarola

What a blessing we had last fall with Carlos and Maria Rivarola visiting from Buenos Aires and giving one incredible class after another. If you haven't seen Carlos dance before, check him out in this Tango movie. One of their classes at Allegros (milonga photo above) was best summed up by two of my partners. I was having trouble, so Carlos came over to help & lead her through the move. After the song ended my partner turned to me as if she'd seen a burning bush and said "I didn't know it could be like that". Five minutes later the same thing happened, but with a different partner & after Carlos walked away she was barely able to speak "I...danced...with...Carlos." Seeing a real maestro tango like this was both inspirational & humbling.

How I Came To Tango...

One year ago I was reading the following poem while out for a late dinner…

A Divine Invitation.

You have been invited to meet The Friend.

No one can resist a Divine Invitation.

That narrows down all our choices to just two:

We can come to God dressed for dancing

Or

Be carried on a stretcher to God’s ward.

-Hafiz (translation by Daniel Ladinsky)

As I read the words, I resolved that I would enter the New Year dancing after one of the most challenging years of my life - one that encompassed having surgery and living with the unknown of a possible cancer diagnosis for awhile ( fortunately it wasn't cancer), the painful ending of a relationship, and several family medical crises.

The poem's message was emphasized even more to me when I fell 5 minutes after reading it and fractured my knee cap. I thought I was through with stretchers, but apparently not. The fall felt like a Universal exclamation point to the poem’s message.

At the time, I certainly wasn't envisioning myself dancing the Tango in 3 inch heels while struggling with crutches and wondering whether I'd ever be able to bend my knee again and return to Bikram yoga classes.

Once gain I was reminded that life is short- so now was the time to do those things that brought me joy. I realized I didn't want to have any regrets at the end of my life over paths not taken. One thing was clear, dance has always brought me joy since I was a young child, and I knew that I definitely wanted to learn Tango before I passed from this earthly plane to the next (where I'm sure everyone is Tango dancing at the Great Milonga in the Sky).

A month after I was out of my leg brace and off crutches I was taking my first Argentine Tango lesson. (My orthopedic doctor would have thought I was crazy if she knew.)

So I guess you could say I came to Tango on a stretcher ….

Dressed for dancing now,

Victoria

Victoria Is In The House!

Well, she's at least here in our little milonga here in Confessions. It is with great pleasure I give you Victoria I'm sorry I can't reveal her real identity, but I can tell you I've danced with her before (now let me see, was that in Bs As, San Francisco or Prague?). I can also tell you she's a wonderful person, a delightful dancer, and Victoria has a poetic view of tango and life (one in the same, aren't they?). What I mean by that is she sees things most of us don't see and then expresses the deepest truths of tango that are invisible to me until her words break through the fog and reveal them to me. So, in a sense, Victoria is my tango sherpa--guiding me up the impossible ascent of the Mt. Everest that is tango. Victoria is also very humble, so I know she's not going to be happy with me for saying all these things (she'll think they're exaggerations, but they're not). Anyway, I wanted to give you this background, so you have a sense for why I never gave up hope that Godot would arrive. I know you'll connect with her words as much as I do with her when we tango. OK, I'm going to shut up now and let Victoria talk for herself, which she'll start doing in her inaugural post within a few days. Welcome, Godot.

Driving Through The Fog To The Verdi Club

I'm driving alone through the dark hills of Marin at night. As I fly out of the tunnel there's so much fog I can't even see the city-I barely make out the top of the reddish orange Golden Gate Bridge as it floats above the Bay. As I cross the bridge, the two towers are tangoing together, their steel arms intertwined in a permanent embrace. I look to my right, but the mist is so thick the Pacific ocean is invisible below. This high up in the clouds the only thing I hear are the lonely notes of Poema*. Feeling my way through the fog towards La Sonrisa*, her lighthouse beckons me as I drift through the cypresses of the Presidio forest. She guides me into safe harbor as I finally see the Verdi Club in the distance and her yellow neon winged harp perched out front above her nest. As soon as she sees me she takes flight in my direction, taking me under her wing and guiding me inside with a knowing smile...I slowly scan the room and through the haze of tangueras* I see her across the floor--she of the great connection. She's talking with a girlfriend, laughing...I forgot how much her smile lights up a milonga*. After a few moments we make eye contact, I cabeceo* and she accepts with a hard-to-read grin. I walk to her, we slowly embrace, I step to my left and she glides with me as we dive into the fog together...

The Bocce Balls of Monte Cristo

If you know nothing else about the Monte Cristo, know this: they take their bocce ball seriously here. In this gentrifying barrio of Portrero rests the Monte Cristo--your neighborhood milonga. Celebrating their 100 year anniversary last year, the first thing you see when you enter this old school Italian social club is bocce ball postings on their left wall. After you climb the stairs there's an Italian style bar to the left, which has ten bocce ball trophies proudly displayed on top of it. And to the right is the dance room, which feels cozy like tango should. It was packed the night I was there, partly because the awesome Trio Garufa was playing. The first woman I danced with is a very nice doctor in town from Washington (you meet the most interesting people in tango!). Later I just watched in a daze as the couples flowed around the floor like a noiseless river. Noiseless, that is, upstairs. I went downstairs to check it out and was standing next to a bocce ball rack outside the kitchen hearing loud, creaking sounds from above--I thought the floor was going to come crashing down. I realized I was standing directly under the dance floor, but it sounded like bocce balls rolling above. Then I see an announcement for their upcoming stag dinners of saltimbocca, polenta & rabbit--you won't find any foo-foo Cal fusion cuisine here. And now I'm back upstairs watching a hundred tangueros float around again. Where did all that noise go? All I hear are the sweet notes of Trio Garufa as the murmering river flows as one.