AmpsterTango

The music dictates...

2011-07-28T01:23:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, I always wondered, that after years of learning technique I found my tango still wanting. My dances ended with a feeling of "Coldness." I looked and searched for the reason. I found it in the most ubiquitous and permeating elements of tango... The Music

A boring dancer was I
I had a vast repertoire of steps and patterns. I knew how to lead. I knew where to place my weight, I knew where her weight was. I was not lacking of things to do. Despite all of this, I could not get over the feeling that when the tanda was over, I was not fulfilled. Because, I did not see my partners totally happy. It looked as though they had just finished a very long tedious activity. It dawned on me—Despite of what I thought of good technique, I was monotonously boring!

Being a former ballroom dancer, we went through drills and exercises to the point that we could do dance moves without the music. The thinking was that we could dance to anything. To a non-ballroom dancer, this would seem a bit absurd. But, In ballroom dancing's defense, a lot of it has to do with technical perfection. This was a training technique to be ultimately competitive.

A total change in perspective
In order to make my dancing more "enjoyable," I did a data-dump of my previous learning techniques. I changed my perspective to focus on tango, and just tango.

I embraced the techniques native to tango, it's dynamics, it's nuances. I listened to the music. I got over the Tango technique part quite well with lots of patience and perseverance. The music however, was a different problem to handle. I couldn't get over the "Old" feel of the music, no percussion, sometimes, the singing voice I found distracting. I kept at it as I accepted the fact that if I need to be proficient in tango, I need to appreciate tango music to dance to it.

My tango music epiphany
This was a major turning point for me.

Despite my self-confidence in leading and passable tango technique, I still felt like I wasn't dancing. Rather, I was simply "shuffling" across the milonga floor. One day, I found the answer. I internalized the music! It made a world of difference. Allow me to explain...

The music dictates
The answer was simple. As I danced, I listened to the music and channeled the mood of the music through my dance. So, if the music was slow, I dance slow. If I the music was fast, I danced fast. If the music changed pace, so did I. It if were an intense piece, say, a Pugliese, my tango was intense and passionate. If the music was sweet, like Canaro's Poema, my dancing reflected the loving embrace for my partner—I matched my mood and movement to the music.

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I've found my tango now to be much improved. After this small improvement, I no longer leave my partners with a glazed look. They leave me with a smile, and my heart sings.

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Volcano Tango

2011-07-26T00:28:00.000-07:00

Mrs. Ampster and I went on a 10 mile hike up to Coldwater Peak. A mountain within the Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, and directly in the blast zone of Mount St. Helens.

To celebrate our summit, we danced a Tango on uneven volcanic ash in-between two trees that were instantly scorched and knocked down when Mount St. Helens erupted in 1980.

P.S. If anyone is wondering what I'm wearing, I hike (and dance) in a Seattle Utilikilt (it's a Seattle thing).

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Mountain Tango

2011-07-03T23:19:00.000-07:00

June 2, 2011 was a particularly beautiful day. Mrs. Ampster and I decided to do a day-hike to the summit of Tiger Mountain (WA).

We found ourselves atop the summit. The sky was clear with visibility unlimited. We could see cities in the distance surrounded by the evergreen forests of Western Washington surrounded by the magnificent Cascades Mountain range.

The day was warm and the breeze cool. The sun was beginning to set and the subdued hues from horizon to horizon created a beautiful burst of inspiration—A Mountain Tango!

A writting sabatical

2011-06-21T09:43:00.000-07:00

My dear friends,

My apologies for not writing lately. Sometimes, this thing called "Life" gets in the way of fun things like tango. Rest assured, I am still here, and will be back soon.

Till then...

Ampster

Dancing 'Grounded'

2011-04-20T00:03:00.000-07:00

Dancing Grounded

After dancing tango all of these years, I (every now and then) hear the word "Grounded" applied to dancing tango. I've always have wondered what term "Grounded" meant. Depended on whom you ask, or what you read, the definition varies. Their definitions varied from the deeply philosophical, enlightened spiritual, and the completely benign. Very few meant anything that I could coherently understand.

That being said, I now write about what dancing "Grounded" means to me...

My definition
Landing each movement with your weight resolutely and confidently until your weight settles and stops, before initiating the next movement. This gives my partner the feeling of completion and closure for every phrase of movement... a period ending every sentence. It gives me the opportunity to wait for my partner to respond to my lead before I continue to lead on.

My technical discussion
I achieve this weight settling feeling via the following:

Upper Body—Maintaining an Intensely Silent Embrace: I keep my upper body contact consistently in contact with my partner. The embrace is loving, firm, yet comfortable. I try to avoid any extraneous upper body movement. That way, my partner can take cues by whole body leading, rather than from just impulses, pushes, pulls, from the arms, etc.

Lower Body—Controlled whole leg movements: Imagine taking one step... The ball of the foot, first contacts the floor. The controlled landing begins. My calf tenses with my quadriceps to move and center my upper body's weight over my leg. My upper and lower leg muscles then take my whole body weight, centered over my foot, then lowers the heel to gently, but resolutely contact the floor. The downward movement continues until my whole weight settles--and stops. End movement, continue next...

Grounding the rhythm
The technical part, challenging as it may seem, was only one part of the equation. The other part was incorporating it into the rhythm. I needed to learn how to move with the music. It was a practice + trial-and-error exercise. Incorporating rhythm with the movement and settling weight was very complicated for me at first. After many tries, I was able to vary the technique to make it work with slow, fast, staccato rhythms. After that, I learned to smooth the amalgamation of movement to make it flow. That is, the moving, landing, turning, landing, etc, etc, etc.

What works for me is a combination of interpreting the music appropriately, with controlled whole body muscular movement. It made a big difference in my tango. It also had the side benefit of developing good leg muscle tone.

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I'm coming in for a landing...!

2011-03-16T23:44:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I wrote, "Landing her first." It was one of the most important things I've learned in leading tango. It was about my needing to wait until my partner's weight settled before moving on and leading my next maneuver. That was one part of the equation.

I now write about the other part of my "Tango movement formula"—I have to (first) let her know what I'm doing to make it easier for my tango partner to follow...

Inadequacies (in the beginning)
When I first started dancing tango, I had my moves memorized well and tried to lead them. Most of the time, my partner wasn't able to follow. I had attributed it to the myriad inadequacies of my partner (e.g. Lack of experience, didn't know the moves, etc.)

A couple of my partners did tell me, "I didn't get that." I wondered... If I executed my moved well, why weren't they getting it? Studying the matter, I realized the errors of my ways. It wasn't my partners' lack of following experience. It was my lack of leading skill that was the inadequacy.

Epiphany (letting her know my intentions)
My great epiphany was that, "In order for my partner to follow me, I need to let her know what I'm doing!" If my partner knows what I'm doing, it'll be easier for her to follow. Simple enough to articulate, not so easy to do.

Mechanics (How do I do it)
I learned to shift my weight with my lower body, and to send signals with my upper body—Smoothly!

Shifting weight: I stopped rushing my movements, and took my time. When I started something, I made sure to settle all my weight on a leg–stop–then move on

Control: I became aware of all of the things my body was doing. I made sure that I was precise and deliberate. Improved muscle tone helped a lot

Isolation: I learned to isolate my upper and lower body. This allowed me to have a steady upper body, which facilitated consistent connection, while my lower body moved and put my upper body into the direction I was leading towards

Integration: The combination of weight shifting, control, isolation, all had to come together. I just went out and endeavored to do them—all at once. It took lots of practice and patience. It took lots of trial and error. I also had to give profuse amounts of apologies to my partners. It was a difficult transition. But the goal was worth pursuing

By transmitting my intentions to my partner with the appropriate commitment, it made it easier for my partner to follow. In turn, made it easier and more natural for me to lead.

When the combination works, the tango becomes one beautiful thing.

My perfect tango partner

2011-02-14T09:13:00.000-08:00

It was in a Valentine's day party, 23 years ago that I met this cute girl. It was 1988.

Her ensemble was a huge lace ribbon on her heavily curled long hair. She wore winged way-farer gold Ray-Ban's, low socks with fuzzy pom-poms. She spoke in happy tones. She was vibrant, smart, sometimes cynical, sometimes funny. She was complicated, yet easily understood. Her perfume filled the air with a sweet scent. I was smitten. I was in love.

23 years passed and it has had its complications, challenges, and irritations. The struggle of life took hold as every young couple embarks on the great tango adventure called life. There were highs and lows. But, amidst it all, there were was a happines that made life all so worth living.

Like a great tango, Mrs. Ampster has been my perfect tango partner. Through good and bad tandas and milongas alike. I thank her, and grateful to God to have blessed me with my perfect tango partner. After all, without a tango partner, I'm just a crazy guy going through the motions of life (and dancing)

I love you Mrs. Ampster, and here's to many, many more decades of going through the great milonga of life, called the Tango.

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My personal tango milestones

2011-02-07T01:07:00.000-08:00

I've been contemplating where my tango journey has taken me with some interesting stops along the way. I've grown, and vastly benefited from this journey. It is sprinkled with experiences and friends that have enriched my soul.

Looking back, I'm bemused at the milestones I've passed...

My, 'I've danced ballroom, I can dance anything' milestone
Coming from a the ballroom world, with all of it's focus on technique, standard patterns, and forms, I was under the impression that I could dance anything and everything. Even this simple dance, devoid of formal exactingly competitive patterns called Argentine Tango.

I was sorely mistaken.

My, 'This is how you need to teach me' milestone
Coming from the highly detail oriented hands of ballroom teachers, I was under the impression that tango teachers would be the same. Finding that there was a difference, I (sometimes) looked contemptuously the lack of formality. I had concrete ideas of how I should be instructed.

I was mistaken.

My, 'I need to get all the tango stuff I can get my hands on' milestone
This was my "Obsession" phase. I needed everything "Tango" related. Shoes, clothes, music, food, wine, books, movies, etc.

It was an expensive endeavor

My, 'I need to attend all of the workshops' milestone
I tuned in to www.allseattletango.com. If there was a visiting instructor, I was there. If they were veterans of "Forever Tango," I was doubly there.

It was exhausting, and I barely retained anything

My cool moves milestone
If I saw some cool tango move from CITA, YouTube or learned in some workshop, I had to keep doing it until I looked good doing it.

It bolstered my ego, but it was hell on my partners

My need to attend every single milonga milestone
Every milonga and practica was on my hit list. I had to be in every one of them, tango every night, and do all my moves whenever and with whomever I can.

It was madness

My overly technically deep analytical milestone
I saw every step, every pattern, every move with blow-by-blow extreme technical analysis, thinking that it would help me improve in my tango. I studied degrees of angles, definitions, triangulated, moved and executed with exacting preciseness.

It filled me with information that I really didn't need to know, and made my head ache

My Milonguero epiphany milestone
One day, I took up this thing called Tango Milonguero i.e. Close embrace tango. It's complicated in its miniaturization of everything I've known thus far. The alignment and mechanics with my partner was much closer, and much more difficult as the axis of movement and centers of gravity were different. The connections were much more intense.

I was blown away

My Intermittent absence milestone
There are quite a few times that life and reality gets in the way of tango. Things such as work, injuries, illness, got in the way of tango and caused "disruptions" in my tango aggressive schedule.

The intermittent absences turned out to be a blessing. Each absence allowed my brain and body to rest. It allowed me to stop and think of my technique, balance, connection, etc, etc, etc.

Each return made each tango better.

My Simplicity milestone
Amazingly, after all the time, money, and effort, instead of building and growing an awesome repertoire of moves, I've grown to love the simple.

Ampstertango blog milestone

This tango journey of mine has taken many twists and turns. As in any journey, one has to stop and enjoy the view for a while. I'm there, enjoying the view for now. Soon, I'll move to the next destination and milestones there will be more to come.

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Lynch pins

2011-01-10T01:32:00.000-08:00

linchpin |ˈlin ch ˌpin| (also lynchpin)

noun1 a pin passed through the end of an axle to keep a wheel in position.2 a person or thing vital to an enterprise or organization3 a person or thing regarded as and essential or coordinating element
- o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -o - o - o - o - o - o -

Lessons

I have spent a copious amount of money, time, and effort taking many lessons from many tango instructors throughout the years.

In their classes (which normally run a few hours per session), I and Mrs. Ampster are taught basic and advanced techniques, steps and patterns (like giros, molinetes, sacadas, etc.) advice on leading and following, etc, etc, etc.

My head gets filled with so much information that it makes my head feel like it's going to burst. A few more days and a few more weeks pass and I hardly remember what was taught to myself and Mrs. Ampster in the first place. It really makes me wonder if my time, money, and efforts was worth it all. I try to incorporate the lessons learned... things fall apart quickly.

Fast forward a few moths—and a few years...
Frustrations arise between Mrs Ampster and I from trying to adopt the lessons learned. It becomes an exercise in patience... So, I let things be and just dance.

It's funny how epiphanies happen. As we dance, things just beautifully happen. I reflect upon it and... EUREKA! I'm reminded of my lessons!!! It wasn't the lessons itself that I'm reminded of, it small things...

Lynch Pins
The large big lessons did not make a difference with me. It's the SMALL tweaks that made a difference—The Lynch Pins! Those small things that adjust your feet, tell you where to put your weight, how to hold your partner, and on and on and on...

I've learned that's the cumulative lessons from the small things that make a difference—The lynch pins!

Holds, hugs, and embraces

2010-12-19T02:41:00.000-08:00

In my path of tango learning, one of the things that I've had to evolve (over the years) was my embrace. In my opinion, it's the initial point of establishing connection with my partner. It is also the point of maintaining flow and energy throughout the tanda. Failure of maintaining a good embrace would (IMHO) tend to jeopardize a whole evening of tango...

A "Hold"
Having started partner dancing in ballroom, I was taught the most basic method of connection—The hold. There was the open hold, where you just held the hands of your partner (e.g. used in a swing). I was also taught the closed hold, where there are three points of contact. The left hand, the right arm, and the eyes (reverse for the woman). Depending on the dance, there was contact at the hips (e.g. Viennese Waltz), no big deal.

The hold was perfect for the ballroom world. Large square frame, big bold moves, precise, technical, and mechanical.

A "Hug"
Having left the ballroom world to transition to Argentine tango, I discovered that the ballroom hold didn't quite work for tango. Studying tango in open embrace (at the time) I had assumed that a ballroom frame and hold would be apropos. Seeing myself in a video caused me much consternation! What I had thought was right, actually looked quite goofy.

I needed to adapt and change my embrace to be more appropriate for the fluidity of tango. Relaxing my shoulders, dropping my elbows, and relaxing my spine, and lowering my chin caused my tango to look like... a tango.

I thought that I was in a good place with my tango. I knew my steps, patterns and could lead my partner with my arms. Holding my partner closer than being in a ballroom hold, I was leery of the closeness. I came up with a compromise. My hold was close enough to lead tango moves, and open enough to avoid the intimacy that tango supposedly created. I had shifted from a hold to a hug.

An "Embrace"
One day, I discovered the holy grail of tango—Close embrace (i.g. Milonguero) . It was the style that created that "Tango magic." It was tango at it's purest essence. It was elegant, simple to look at, yet so beautiful in it's lack of flash.

I did not realize how complicated this "Simplicity" could be. I had two things to deal with in dancing in close embrace.

Technical

The mechanics of learning how to execute tango in close embrace when you and your partner are totally connected and creating a common axis, while still being able to move fluidly in very confined spaces.

Sociological

This was a personal problem as I discovered that I had to dance with complete strangers. It was to close within my comfort zone. Dancing in close embrace was exactly that. Really, really close. I yelled within my mind... "These are not my wife's boobs!"

I got over the technical issues via a combination of learning, practice, feedback, and determination. I got over my sociological issues with dancing chest-to-chest with my partner when I realized that being in this predicament only became malicious if I made it so. I developed a deep respect for my partner, knowing that the dance really was done this way. The more I danced, the more comfortable and natural things became.

Overcoming these two issues played a lot into the my latest evolution of contact with my partner. I was now embracing her. It was no longer a cold mechanical hold. Nor was it a friendly hug. It is a comfortable, trusting, loving and caring embrace.

I hold not too tight, and not to light. I protect her and keep her safe. I lead her within my embrace. As we dance in an embrace, each tanda becomes a fun, kind, playful, passionate, beautiful, and magical tango experience.

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A superb start, the middle muddle, a finish with flair

2010-11-25T19:31:00.000-08:00

My tango does not proceed on one monotonous pattern of rhythm throughout the song. Rather, like a dialogue with my partner, my tango has a distinct opening phrase, a body of content, and a distinct ending...

A superb start
This is the part where I make initial connection with my partner. I try my best to settle within her comfort zone. I establish her trust. I "Dial in" my dancing to compliment hers. I begin listen to the music, it's rhythm, it's beat, and it's phrasing.

I meld the music to my partner. I don't rush. I wait. I time my opening to the music, and give my partner clear non-verbal signals to get ready. When the time is right, I begin to lead.

I don't initiate the start of the tango with some fancy pattern. Rather, I consider something as simple as a side step, delivered clear and simple as a superb start. I am asking my partner, "Shall we dance?"

The middle muddle
This is the main, longest, and most intricate part of the conversation with my partner. It follows the ups, downs, and rhythmic changes of the music. To this, my tango shifts, adapts, changes and morphs. I lead my tango in a balance of movement to the music, and a "give and take" between my partner and I.

Sometimes the interaction works, sometimes it doesn't. I compensate, compromise, adapt and modify my lead in order to make the conversation work. My objective is to give her a beautiful tango experience.

A finish with a flair
As in life, every tango conversation has to end—sometime. I've tried to make a good start. I've been doing my best to lead and sustain a smooth, coherent, and pleasurable body of content, that is, the middle conversation.

Now the time has come to end this (conversation) in a way that compliments the events preceding. Just moving without regard to the ending makes for a "blah" experience (I think).

There is the one last note in (most) every tango song. I like to think that hitting the last note is a very good ending to a tango. By blending everything together to hit that one last note IS... an ending with a flair.

As I write this, I link to several of my older posts for reference. I find that the more I know, the more lessons I draw from older lessons learned. Composing my tango in phases works for me. I hope that by doing so, it also works for my tango partner.

We interrupt this broadcast...

2010-11-13T15:00:00.000-08:00

A good friend of mine from Seattle (Halbert) has started his own tango blog. Please stop by and have a read: A Few Tandas

Giving and taking her space

2010-11-09T02:08:00.000-08:00

This is a follow up from my post of "Landing her first." Of the two most important things I've learned to do in order for a tango to work is (see previous link) timing your lead to coincide with landing your partner first. The second is the active practice of giving and taking space from my partner.

Allow me to explain...

Taking her space
My first tango teacher once told me, "Occupy the space your partner just left." Not knowing anything about tango [at the time], I had no idea what he was talking about. I was simply muddling through my steps.

A year or so later, the light bulb lit inside my head. I finally learned how to lead with my chest by communicating my intentions with my upper body, moving my partner. When I move my partner from her current position to the next, my body occupies the place where she had been. When her upper body moves, my upper body takes it's place, moving her legs. When here leg moves away, my leg takes it's place. All this while leading the pace, distance, and tempo from move to move.

Giving her space
The other side of the coin from taking her space, is GIVING her space. Where taking her space works well for tango walks, giving her space works even better for moves requiring directional changes (e.g. turns, sacadas, paradas, etc).

I found the reasoning behind the milonguero posture that (done right) makes my partner and I look like the letter "A." Back straight, chests projected forward, allows the legs space to move.

The significance of this is that, should I decide to lead ochos, giros, walk backwards, walk on three tracks, etc, it gives my partner a place of her to place her leg to land, thus allowing her space and time to shift and complete her weight change, move without knocking knees.

My lesson learned from this epiphany is that this principle follows common sense and is a fundamental skill, requiring the right posture, leading technique and timing.

Done right, the appropriate giving and taking of her space facilitates that magical tango feeling of having "One body, four legs."

Turns

2010-10-22T01:43:00.000-07:00

Giros, enrosques, molinetes, cadenas, calecitas and a myriad of other terms I don't even remember, refer to actions that initiate and/or execute variations of a (seemingly) simple act, so essential to tango— the ability to do turns...

Why bother with turns?
There is a great emphasis on the tango walk. This is true. It all starts with the walk.

When I first started tango, I was heavily reliant on just walking—Front, back and sideways. However, when I find myself (finally) going to milongas, I realized quite quickly that walking in line of dance does have it's limitations.

The limitations of walking happens when the line of dance momentarily slows down or stops. I couldn't move via walking and found that I couldn't just stand there. Rock-steps would suffice, but not for the whole tanda.

My conundrum was how to keep my tango interesting, while I slow down in walking, without stopping in movement, maintaining graceful dance motion, while still moving very slowly forward (or in place) in the line of dance. I had to learn to turn in place, turn around, turn left, turn right, turn in rotation, turning, turning, turning...

Turns... from different teachers
Learning anything in tango for me is a difficult process. Each teacher I went to, almost always taught me several ways to turn. I only retained one turn per teacher—most of the time. With some teachers, I learned nothing at all. With enough perseverance, I retained enough turns to build a foundation.

Combining and improvising
I previously said "Foundation." That is because I never have retained the turns as they were taught to me. I remember "Why" a turn is done they way it is and "How" it's supposed to look. That's about it. I don't remember the blow by blow "How-to."

What I've done is to remember the concepts of a particular turn, adopt it to my personal tango, and attempt to make it flow as one by combining them and improvising as I go.

Turn mechanics
I've found that being able to turn my partner was not a function of steps and feet. Rather, I've found that if I lead resolutely with my chest, know where my partner's weight is and figure out where our mutual pivot points are, then I simply lead her chest around that pivot point. Her feet simply follow.

Realities of a milonga
The realities of the milonga necessitate putting all of the aforementioned together. The milonga is sometimes packed. Some leads are great, some back up in traffic, some cut in front, most are respectful of the line of dance. Sometimes the floor is fast, sometimes the floor is excruciatingly slow.

Regardless where I find myself, my walks, combined with turns interact together to create my own unique tango floor craft. That way, I keep my partner safe, constantly moving, and in synch with the music.

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Drapes and Rods

2010-10-12T01:13:00.000-07:00

There is an old ballroom cliché that says, "You are the frame, the woman is the picture. Whatever you do is to make her look good."

Now that I dance Tango exclusively, I still keep that to heart, with my own tango appropriate modification. Frames and pictures, connotes something beautiful, yet static. Something to ogle at as it stands stoically for all to see.

I would much rather think of the tango relationship as Drapes and Rods...

The Rod
I am the rod, complete with finials and sconces. Alone, I am just a fancy piece of wrought iron metal hanging over the grand entrance. Without my partner, I'm just there with no visible purpose.

The Drapes
The lady is the drape. She is the beautiful fabric of which those who see will marvel at her stunning beauty. Without the curtain rod, the fabric lays flat and unappreciated

The Dance
My point is that, separately, we are simply props laying around. There is no chemistry, no movement, no mastery. Apart, we are nothing.

Together, awash in the music of the bandoneon, dancing a la milonguero... magic happens.

I am the rod that holds up the drape. She is the magnificent cascading delicate fabric. It is my job to move her. My motion creates the movement that catches and moves her upon the breeze. It is her job to float and flow with me upon the breeze. Together, we become the music.

It is my job to make her flow. It is my job to make her move. It is my job to make her beautiful. It is our job to compliment each other—Like Drapes and Rods.

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"Landing" her first

2010-09-20T23:19:00.000-07:00

One of the most significant learning experiences I've ever had (in tango) was knowing when my partner has landed her weight BEFORE I lead something else. It makes for a better, smoother dance...

A leader in learning
I remember the time when I was first learning to lead in tango. Woe to my partners at the time as I was very consistent—In knocking them off their axis. I would go from move to move and it seemed that they could never keep up with me, nor keep their balance.

Much to my chagrin, their awkward debacles were my fault! Later in my (tango) learning process, I realized that I kept knocking them off their axis because of two things. First, I was impatient. Second, I was impatient because I didn't know if my partners had finished shifting their weight or not.

I had made the mistaken assumption that my partners knew what to do. What I should have done was to learn how to lead properly.

A major epiphany–Shifting weights
My epiphany lay in the fact that in order (for me) to go from lead to lead, I had to get the timing right—I needed a signal.

I figured out that the signal I needed was to know when she "landed" her weight. That's when my partner has completed her movement. This, I needed to know before I lead my next thing.

Our chests are connected to our feet
This is one technique I use to know where my partner's weight is. Since I dance exclusively in close embrace, I used our chest-to-chest connection as a telegraph by concentrating deeply and feeling her movements.

I find it difficult to explain all the nuances, but here is my rule of thumb. There are three movements after I initiate a lead. First—she answers my lead by responding to it. Second—She follows my center, then returns to align with it. Third—(My epiphany) I feel her feet touch down, then, she settles and her whole weight "lands" on her leg.

That moment is the moment I know that she's ready. It's the signal I was looking for! It's the (only) time for me to lead something else without knocking her over!

In tango, many simple things make so big a difference. This is just one of those examples. That single learning experience of knowing when my partner lands her weight made all the difference from attempting a judo takedown to a smooth giro.

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Every time I dance, I take a chance

2010-09-14T01:33:00.000-07:00

Every time I go up to a lady to ask for a dance, either directly or via cabeceo, a little voice in the back of my head raises alarm bells... I am taking a chance!

The (main) chances I take

A chance of rejection

There is always a chance of being turned down. I am not a rock star that women would fall over each other to dance with (it would be nice). I am just another ex-Tango Zombie, who really likes to dance. My point is, I'm not guaranteed a dance every time

A chance of nervousness

I am not always as confident as I think I am. When I realize that I'm not as ready as I thought I was, I get so nervous and my tango blows up. It goes from a promise of a blissful tanda, to a long arduous ordeal for my partner

The chance of having a "brain fart"

I've been doing tango for a while now. Every now and then, I find myself just not remembering, not knowing, not doing whatever it was I was trying to lead. Alzheimer's perhaps? Too many knock on my head in my youth? It's a "Brain fart!"

The chance of asking an inept follow

When dancing with strangers, every now and then, I chance upon a inept follow. It is seldom, but when it happens, I will finish the tanda and be the best lead I can and give her the best dance I can give her. It would not be a good tanda for me, but I hope it will be good for her.

The chance of being a bad lead

The inverse of the preceding. I try to be as best a lead as I can be. However, on occasion, I'm "out of it," I'm "not into it," or, worse I can be having a "brain fart" night. If I'm a bad lead it's inexcusable as I would give my partner a bad dance

A bunch of other hang-ups

The preceding are the major stuff that worries me when I take a lady to the dance floor. There are is a myriad of other stuff that sometimes befuddle me. Things seemingly so trivial as " 'Is my cologne too much?' 'Do my clothes match?' 'Are my boots shined?' 'Is there too much stuff in my pockets? Etc, etc, etc.

All of these all play in my head when I ask a lady to dance. So much can go so wrong so fast that it is in fact, taking a chance.

Why I STILL take the chance to dance
Getting over hang-ups (in tango) is like taking a leap of faith. I find that the magic that happens when one dances tango is an overwhelming reason to brave the minefield of misgiving in one's own mind. As much as I like to dance, it is important that I face the risks of asking (and getting) to dance a tanda of tango. Otherwise, I'd be sitting out the night, moping in a corner.

While it is true that every time I dance, I take a chance... It is even much truer that in order to dance I MUST take the chance.

Someone asked me to teach tango

2010-08-22T00:35:00.000-07:00

A non-tango colleague of mine, quite insistently, asked me to teach her tango. Maybe even start a tango club at work. I graciously said no and gave my reasons. My colleague seemed baffled at my answer. I just ended up saying that I couldn't teach.

I guess, trying to address my true reasons were something only tango people would truly understand—I think...

Don't want to teach steps
I can (probably) teach different levels of steps, mechanical techniques, come up with patterns, and develop really deep tango concepts. However, I'm not inclined to go down this road because I have not the time nor the patience for such an endeavor. As a friend of mine once said, "As far as tango goes, I'm a consumer, not a producer."

The real reason I don't want to teach
The real reason I truly do not want to teach is this—I cannot teach anyone to express themselves with their own souls. I can teach my expression from MY soul. Having someone trying to adopt my interpretation will end up with someone trying to emulate myself. What I would want to happen is for everyone is to create a distinctive "you." I do not know enough to inspire someone to activate and express their own brand of tango from deep within.

When the time comes when I figure out how to inspire people to develop their own tango expression, maybe I'll consider teaching tango, but, not until then.

My little bunny brain blow ups

2010-08-19T01:47:00.000-07:00

One of my major tango pitfalls are attending Tango workshops and tango lessons. I... am... a... slow... learner.

My latest foray into the tango workshop world was with a beautiful and dear friend. Secretly, I was a little hesitant going to the workshop. It has been so long since I've taken a workshop. Soon, I would remember why I don't do workshops anymore.

The workshop started off well enough. I breezed through the first materials. As the workshop progressed and more (and complicated) material was given, the more disconcerted I got. My dancing got progressively worse. My loving embraced turned into something in between a bear-hug and a submission hold. My giros resembled something like Judo takedowns done to tango music. It was bad.

With remorse, I apologized to my partner for my man-handling. She smiled and said, "Your little bunny brain blew up." I so very mush agreed.

Short circuiting synapses
The reason my brain fries (regularly) during lessons and workshops is because of volume vs. time. The teacher will throw so much stuff at me, and so fast. My mind and body are overwhelmed and incapable of absorbing everything in one session.

It takes time for my muscle memory to learn and adapt. It takes time for my brain to absorb the patterns and steps. My motor skills and body mechanics have not processed fast enough to deliver proper technique.

Then, in fits of desperation, frustration, and aggravation, my philosophical brain takes over and tries to analyze (and/or justify) the applicability of the lesson in a real milonga... While I'm still trying to do all of the aforementioned!

Managing my short-comings
I cannot hope to come up to the level of my expert teachers. I do however, am capable of being a passable social dancer. That being said, I have developed my "Ampster's strategy to tango learning from lessons:"

I know my boundaries and capabilities
I pick and choose from the lessons they gave me, and try to modify and adapt them to a social milonga floor
I take the lessons and figure out the body mechanics to make it work
I visualize (like a movie in my mind) how its supposed to work. I think of the appropriate technique, body mechanics, timing, leading that I need to do
I only do "The move" if I can lead it comfortably with a follower. If I can't, I won't have her suffer through my incompetence

In addressing all of my little bunny brain blow-ups, I resign myself to the fact that I am not infallible. I take my time to learn. I cannot do everything that was taught to me, but I [eventually] can do enough to add a little tidbit to my repertoire. Eventually, those little tidbits add up to make for an interesting tanda.

P.S. To my wonderful and beautiful tango workshop buddy... Thank you for putting up with me :)

The movie star in my arms

2010-08-04T22:52:00.000-07:00

Every woman I tango with is a movie star.

She is the reason I dance tango

She is the reason I improve my dance

I adore her

I care for her

I venerate her

I revel in the warmth of her embrace

I must make her comfortable in my embrace

It is my job to make her look good

It is my job to make her feel good

It is my job to lead her well

If she dances well, I dance well

If we dance well, the music is within us

If the music is within us, we are one

If we are one, then we are in tango

I truly care for the woman I tango with, for she is the movie star in my arms

Doing self critiques

2010-07-29T01:20:00.000-07:00

Throughout the years I've been dancing tango, I've had a few opportunities to see myself dancing. It happened again recently, and seeing myself one more time, gave the opportunity to ponder and learn a few things.

Every now and then, the tango zombie paths of old needed to be contemplated, examined, and corrected...

Ballroom Lessons
When I was an aspiring ballroom dancer many years ago, my teacher ( Sam Smith ) taught me two things:

Some people do not look as good as they think
People need to be honest with ego. If not, they get stuck and never progress

What he was talking about was that many, many people think they are so good, and thus, look good too. Unfortunately, when others see you, that is not the case... and, it happens a lot.

I was this (infallible) person once. I thought I was the best at what I did and no one could match me—Until I saw myself dance. It was during a performance. Oh my goodness! I looked horrible. That was a wake-up call.

I had to improve. In order to do this, I had to accept the fact that I was not as good as I thought I was. That was what my teacher talked about being honest with my ego

My tango critique evolutions
Seeing myself dance in tango was more challenging than I had anticipated. The complexity and finesse tango needs required me to contemplate and plan in order to move forward. My self critiques reflected my growth in tango.

My early tango years

My perspective of myself emphasized on the "Mechanical." I believed that in order to be good, I had to expand my tango vocabulary. I went down the path of trying to learn everything as fast as I could.

Sometime in between now and then

I saw myself dance again. Despite the much expanded vocabulary, all I saw of myself was a step collector. My emphasis in learning, then shifted to techniques and the refinement thereof. So much so that I became "anal retentive." I became obsessed with perfection. I believed that having the repertoire of steps and precise delivery was they key to being good in tango.

Much to my chagrin, I realized that this, and my other preceding belief were quests of folly. Tango didn't work that way. I realized that tango is a balance of discipline, patience, technique, mechanical knowledge, all combined with caring for my partner.

Seeing myself now

It's funny. After all the money and work expended on workshops, memorization, techniques, shoes, clothes, blah, blah, blah... I came to the realization that I am now faced with one of the most difficult things to do in tango (IMHO)—Keeping things simple, and still look decent.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Many, many people have said that "In tango, you dance for yourself, and your partner. Not for anyone else." True, so very, very true.

However, when I see myself and there are things that obviously need correcting, I need to "man up" and do something about it.

Heartbeats

2010-07-22T17:05:00.000-07:00

There is something in tango that is absolutely unique and beautiful. They are heartbeats...

Only in tango have I experienced the deepest connections with my dance partner. This, none more so manifested by heartbeats. In between dances during the tanda, there is that few seconds before each dance begins.

When the first bars of the music fills the air, it permeates my senses. I feel the music. I feel my partner. I breathe slowly and deeply while listening to the music. I listen to her. Then... There it is!

I feel my heart thumping, as if to the beat. In between heartbeats, I feel another set... Her own heart beating.

In this one fleeting moment (spanning a mere second or two) is the real beginning of "The tango experience." It is when I feel hearts and the music in harmonious synchronization is when our dance begins.

It is a connection of souls. It is one conversation without words. It is warm, comforting, real, and simply human. It is a beautiful thing.

Dialing in—to different heights

2010-07-01T00:15:00.000-07:00

I once wrote about "Dialing in." I talked about adapting my dancing to match the dance capabilities of my particular partner (at the moment), in order to make the tango magic happen.

One of the challenges I've come across over and over again is dancing with partners of different heights. I like to dance a lot, and to limit myself with picking only partners who were of the same height, limited my tango time.

Furthermore, I see women sitting out most of the night regardless of them being beautiful dancers. I asked my veteran colleagues why this was. Their common answer: "Because, they are (either) too tall, (or) too short.

I used to dance in open embrace. Height was not much of a problem. Since becoming a close embrace dancer, I was intrigued as the dynamics were vastly different. I experimented on the milonga floor for the next couple of years leading to some very "interesting" discoveries and results...

I. The challenge of varying heights

My ideal height range

Dancing close embrace, I found that a height difference of +/- 4 inches equaled my ideal height range. At this level, our bodies are hinged very similarly, allowing for dynamic movement. I could easily dance close embrace—apilado style. That is, with a deep lean, sharing a common axis with my partner. This is where the both of us would form a dance posture resembling the letter "A." Walks, turns, or any movement in tango is relatively easy.

My reality of dancing with a partner who is too short

Dancing apilado style with a partner who was significantly (a head) shorter than I would cause my weight to lay on them. This would cause her to be most uncomfortable. Leading anything would be difficult as the pressure would be downward as opposed to forward.

I tried couching lower, but that just made my knees ache. I tried bending forward at the waist, but that made my bust stick out. In any case, a "Thank you" from any of my partners would be quite apropos at any point—I know this from first hand experience.

My reality of dancing with a partner who is too tall

Trying to dance with a partner with a lean is like a defensive line-man executing a tackle. My center of gravity would be lower, and my shoulders chest, and head would drive into her upper chest, pushing her off her axis. This was tango. Not tackle football.

Trying to lead would be awkward, as she is trying to stay upright and not get knocked over. I even tried to dance on my tip-toes. But, that just caused my leading to become vague and ambiguous as I was no longer grounded.

Besides, NONE of this looked any good. The word "Goofy" came to mind.

II. Lessons that work

Too short, try a torso lead

Something I learned from Patricio and Eva Touceda: If your partner is too short, stand up straight, always maintain your axis, and offer her your torso for leading!

That is, if her head only goes up to my chest, I extend my leading to my torso. That way, when I move my chest, I move my torso along with it. This is where my shorter follower would get her leads.

I tried it, and it works! It also has the side benefit of helping develop my core—which I am in dire need of...

Too tall, stand up straight and develop your giros

I stand up straight and ground myself, chest out, and lead with purpose. I maintain my own axis. By doing this, I find that leading becomes easier, as I do not have to compensate where the body hinges. I concentrate on where my (taller) partner's weight and axis are, and use that to time where and what I lead.

Leading a taller partner has an added challenge... My forward vision is majorly impaired.

With a taller partner, her chin would touch my temple. I can only see forward with my left eye. My right eye would be blocked by her neck, making me totally blind-sided on the right. To address this, I learned to develop my giros (i.e. stationary turns) to the left and to the right. That way, I turn either left or right before I move forward. It allows me to see, and helps make my dancing flow better.

I did this because I love dancing tango. By learning how to dance with either short or tall partners, I'm able to diversify, both to my, and my partners' benefit.

P.S. To my past partners, both short and tall, whom I've inflicted my past ineptitude... I sincerely apologize.

The dreaded... MILONGA!

2010-06-11T02:17:00.000-07:00

Milonga (place): A term for a place or an event where tango is danced.

Milonga (dance genre): Also refer to a musical genre. The song was set to a lively 2/4 tempo, and often included musical improvisation.. Despite 2/4 formula, rhythm is irregular. It is syncopated, consisting of 8 beats with accents on the 1st, (sometimes also 2nd) 4th, 5th, and 7th beats.

Regular 2/4 rhythm: [1] 2 3 4 [5] 6 7 8

Milonga rhythm: [1] 2 3 [4] [5] 6 [7] 8, sometimes also [1] [2] 3 [4] [5] 6 [7] 8 or 3 3 2 [1] 2 3 [4] 5 6 [7] 8
____________________________________________

If you watch the milonga floors (in Seattle), you'll notice that once a milonga tanda starts playing, the floor opens up. Why? A lot of people do not dance milonga. The single most common reason? "I'm not too good at milonga."

The milonga was MY nemesis for the longest time. It was the dance that made me feel uncoordinated, clunky, and clumsy. Attempting to dance a milonga made me feel so inadequate. In an attempt to cope, I researched the milonga from a historical and technical standpoint. None of my research helped.

Realizing this inadequacy, I decided to do something about it.

My milonga pitfalls
I decided to do some introspection and figure out what it was that made my milonga dancing "Blow up." I postulated that, knowing my faults, I would know how to address them.

Trouble with milonga music

The primary hurdle. I did not get milonga music. It was obvious that it was fast. What baffled me most was the pattern—There wasn't a consistent one. I couldn't tell the downbeat because the orchestra did not use a bass. Furthermore, like in tango, the rhythm would change several times during the song. Only now, it was much faster!

Troubles with leading

Learning to be a competent leader dancing a tango was a challenge that took at least a couple of years (for me). Learning to be a competent leader dancing a milonga was worse. It took me at least another couple of years. Because, not only did I need to navigate, lead steps, apply musicality, be in tune, etc, etc, etc... but now, dancing milonga seemed more frantic, chaotic, and frustratingly fast, fast, FAST! My milonga leading would normally disintegrate into an unrecognizable blob of shame.

Leading speed and tempo badly

My musical challenge with leading a milonga lay in the fact that it was fast, and the tempo, irregular. I was used to dancing with a steady downbeat, and consistent rhythm. To my chagrin, this was not the case with the milonga

(Really) Rough leading

As I was not to sure of what I was doing, I would try to fake it. This lead to several embarrassing results, for which I am fully to blame. None of this made for a pleasant experience for any of my hapless partners (at the time). These occurrences happened before I started paying attention to my partners. Back then, it was all about me.

Milonga epiphany

As in any endeavor that you spend time, effort, and money in, when it works, it becomes an enlightening and magical experience. It is therapy for a frustrated milonga heart.

Understanding the dance

I tried, and tried, and tried. I took classes, took advise, experimented. Nothing seemed to work. I did not get this milonga thing. One day, I attended a class that seemed to tie all the milonga concepts together.

Muma's lesson

She showed up in Seattle once and I took a class. She was neither fancy, nor flashy. She only taught one thing—Milonguero style tango. The significance of her class to me was this: She used the same steps for Tango, Vals, and Milonga. The difference was HOW you delivered it. Tango had drama. Vals flowed, and Milonga was in staccato. Keeping this simple principle in mind, I realized that I could do it too

Recognizing the music

Now that I understood the dance, I now had to understand the music. Instead of listening for a downbeat, I listened to the top of the music—The rhythm and danced to it. It was there that I found the pauses, the stops, goes, and flows of the music. Knowing this, I learned WHEN to place my motion

Delivery size

It was always a problem for me to keep up with milonga music. That was, until I remembered a lesson from my ballroom days.

If the music is slow, feel free to step large. If the music is fast, step small. That meant, if milonga was twice as fast, I lead steps were twice as small. That way, I could keep up with the speed without having to expend excessive energy

In the end...

I can consider myself as a passable milonga dancer. Not bad, not painful, but passable. It took so much time. It took so much effort. But in the end, my reward is the extra space that I and my partner can dance in when the milonga floor opens up when a milonga tanda starts.

A journey through my incompetence

2010-06-01T12:44:00.000-07:00

In practicing the way of tango, one of my most poignant "lessons learned" was that I was not as good as I thought I was.

In order to (continually) improve, I first had to admit it to myself that I was flawed. Secondly, I had to discover and learn what my shortcomings were before I could learn how to deal with them.

Ampster's Incompetencies

Problem: I didn't know where my follower's weight was

I can't lead someone, if I can't tell where she had her weight. I didn't know how to tell if she was planted, or if she had landed firmly on one leg. This malady caused me to Not know know if my partner had completed the step I was leading. I frequently knocked her off her axis, and always rushed her into steps before she could complete the previous one I just (tried) to lead

Resolution: Patience and perception. I learned how to wait for my partner to settle, and feel her. I stopped myself from bulldozing through figures, and concentrate on reading her movements. I waited and made a conscious effort to feel her shift until she settled on one leg.There will be a very slight moment where I could feel all of her weight settle... Then stop—Which gave me the signal to start the next movement.

Problem: My previous dance experience applies to tango

Coming fresh from the ballroom world, I had (mistakenly) assumed that my previous dance experience can be transposed into tango. I tried, and it didn't work. The results were quite embarrassing.

Resolution: A little humility. I had to cast aside my previous assumptions. I had to swallow my ego and learn tango from scratch. That way, when I did learn tango, it was not "tainted" by the other dances. I stopped saying, "When I danced (blah, blah, blah) we did it this way..."

Problem: Figure oriented

I thought that if I memorized a few steps, it would carry me along. It was like this in the ballroom world. Why would it not work in tango? Painfully as it was, most especially for my follows. This did not work. It made for a boring and mechanical dance.

Resolution: I had to learn how to lead dynamically. That meant putting together all the lessons learned and apply them holistically. Then, deliver and improvise based on the rules of tango (e.g. Line of dance, musicality, rhythm, improvisation, etc). The figures I did learn (e.g. Ochos, giros, etc.), were simply building blocks that I needed to string together as seamlessly as possible.

Problem: I expected the follower to "Know" what was being led

I thought that when my tango teacher taught a move, everyone was supposed to "Get it." So, I expected the follow to "Get it" too. This only succeeded in frustrating me, and my follows to not want to dance with me.

Resolution: Learn to lead. This is what makes tango... "Tango." It is a conversation without words in the form of dance. In order for the follower to move, I (the leader) needed to lead clearly first.

Problem: I expected the follower to keep up

I lead, she follows... At my pace! Now, what was I thinking??? Tango is an expression of emotion. It's neither a race, nor a competition.

Resolution: Wait for her. I have said in this blog (many times), that tango is all about her. This being no exception. I need to wait for my partner to finish, settle, then continue on. I don't need to rush her, as she needs to enjoy the dance.

Problem: I did not understand Tango music

When I first started tango, I preferred nuevo music. It was contemporary, had a heavy beat that I could hear. I could relate to it.

I didn't like traditional tango music because it was old and scratchy—and there was NO BASS! I couldn't follow the music, because I couldn't find the repetitive patterns.

Resolution: Understand tango music structures. I wrapped my head around the fact that traditional tango music changed rhythm several times in one song—A revelation! Tango music doesn't have a distinctive bass because it doesn't need it. It's in the rhythm—Another "Aha" moment! knowing that, and listening to tango music profusely, I understood the dynamic range of the music. This made perfect sense as you had to lead the dance dynamically anyway. Understanding the musical structure of tango was the lynch pin!

When I danced ballroom, we were taught that tango was a "Dancer's dance." In ballroom, that was simply a standard line they feed you. Transcending into the real tango world, I now truly understand why that is.

When the cabeceo REALLY came in handy...

2010-05-10T21:06:00.000-07:00

At one milonga past...

I was on a break and making my to the snack table. Strolling past, I see a friend sitting. What struck me was that she was being "talked to." This guy looked like he was talking "at" her.

Her body language looked polite, yet, uncomfortable. It seemed to be a one way conversation as it didn't looked like she was interested at all. He leaned into her, as she was trying to (slightly) lean away.

As I walk past, she looks my way, and makes eye contact. I see what's happening, and (instinctively) give a cabeceo. She nods, begs her leave, stands up, and we dance.

As we dance, she tells me, "Thank you for saving me." I smile and reply, "My pleasure," and we finish the tanda...

A little bit of this, a little bit of that...

2010-05-05T00:06:00.000-07:00

Here's a brief outline of how, and what I've learned from various tango teachers...

I'm no virtuoso, nor am I a protégé

I, and my tango are not products of any one teacher. Neither have I adopted the style of any single instructor.

It took me at least two years to become decently passable as a leader. The first year was spent with my first teacher learning moves. His teachings laid the basic foundations of what was to be, "My own tango."

The next few years were spent adjusting, refining, building, and still learning. These "tweaks" came from different instructors. Each with their own areas of expertise. Each with something to contribute. Each one providing important pieces of the puzzle.

I had trouble with each of them, and it was up to me to figure out the value, internalize and mesh all of their lessons into a cohesive whole.

I am a "hybrid" tango student

Throughout the years, I have had a hodge-podge of instructors, lessons and workshops. That's A LOT to take in. Going down this road I have come away with a few lessons learned:

I can't absorb all of what they teach

During lessons and workshops, people will ask me, "Did you get all of that?" I would give them a look of consternation and say, "No." I don't. I REALLY don't get everything I'm taught. I'm a slow learner. I just persevere through it all.

I can confidently say that I only remember 10% of each session. Afterwards, it probably takes me a month or so to make it work on the milonga floor.

Not everything taught to me is applicable

Some of my teachers are REALLY good. I am in no way, shape, or form capable doing what they do. I can only use the lessons that I am capable of doing on my own without frustrating, aggravating, nor injuring my partner.

Retain just the important lessons

I remember and implement only the lessons that are useful and executable, in relation to my abilities.

Adopt their methodology, adapt it to yourself

My first teacher said, "You need to make your dance yours." A lesson that has stuck with me from the beginning. I learned from all of them, but in the end, I have to adapt their lessons into tango. It may not be perfect, nor may it be beautiful, but it gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment, as it has become part of who I am.

To all of my teachers, I am grateful. Thank you for your diligence and your patience. Without you, I would not have "My own tango."

And so my learning continues...

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

My teachers and the enduring lessons I retain to this day (In chronological order):

Sonny Newman: "Make your dance your own," Philosophies of dance, Basic techniques: caminadas, sacadas, calecitas, giros, enrosques, barridas, lapizes, Ochos, ocho cortados, dissociation, sanguchitos, walking in parallel and crossed... etc, etc, etc
Lucianna Valle: Explanations of how tango music is phrased, musicality in tango
Miriam Larici: How to lead with the center, confidence in leading
Muma: Walking and turning (milonguero style), proper milonguero posture
Alicia Pons: Proper and effective weight distribution, management of center of gravity
Eva Lucero and Patricio Touceda: Where to hold your balance, advanced refinements on leader's technique, refinements on walking, posture corrections

Un-making a tango zombie

2010-04-27T01:44:00.000-07:00

I was at Seattle's newest milonga one day (La Milonga) and it was great. Sitting out one tanda for a break, I watched the packed floor and a thought just hit me. My attitudes towards tango had changed (very distinctly) throughout the years.

Here's how I'd characterize it... Some people describe it as an addiction. I think mine went a bit further...

Becoming a Tango Zombie
This was my state of being, in my first couple of years of tango. it was (IMHO) and affliction, a slow, all consuming malady that overwhelmed me. My life revolved around it. Life decisions were made with tango as an ubiquitous consideration. The following were the major symptoms

Tango Workshop addiction

There was a time when I can remember that my desire to learn tango, drove me to attend every workshop I could (possibly) go to. I went to nuevo workshops, milonguero workshops, salon workshops, show tango workshops, workshops by this expert from here, experts from there, experts from everywhere.

Every single milonga pilgrim

I can remember a time when I was obsessed with attending every milonga and practica, schedule permitting. I had a permanent bookmark on my browser to allseattletango.com. That way, I knew where and when the next milonga and practica would be. My off-work times were spent there. My vacation days were expended there. My social life revolved around them.

Obsession with technical over-analysis

Along with the workshops and milongas came the mindset of steps and technique. Thinking of steps and technique. Talking about steps, technique, steps, technique. Knit-picking here, criticizing there. Conversations with friends revolved around steps, technique, new steps, different technique, angle, blocking, contact points, bluh-blah, bluh-blah, bluh-blah. Did I say I over-analyzed steps and technique?

Obsessive and/or compulsive tango hero worship

Seattle is blessed with an abundance of really great visiting tango instructors. I think that a good number of the cast of Forever Tango have taught in Seattle. And, I adored them! One in particular (I thought) danced like an angel. I have pictures, videos, posters, autographs... I was star struck! I had turned into a (pseudo) middle-aged tang-groupie!

Recovery and De-tango zombiefication
That tango zombie business lasted a good couple of years. My de-tango zombiefication did not happen instantly. Rather, recovery happened as my tango maturity grew. The following are the things that have taken me from tango zombieland and into back into the realm of the (almost) "Normal."

Mastery of the basics

Mastering the basics (in tango) became the key to getting-over the tango workshop addiction. Everything in tango is based on the basics (i.e. walking). Then, progressively builds from there. A lot of the lessons I've learned (thus far) suddenly made sense. No longer was there a desire to attend all workshops.

Knowing what I know now, I've become very selective and only go to those teachers whom I know will add value to my personal method of tango.

Tango celebrity admiration, NOT adoration

Tango instructors are only human, except, they posses a skill that is unique and beautiful. Some aspire to look like them, or be like them. Boil down their technique and you see the simplicity of it all. I admire them for their dedication and expertise. I admire them for their willingness to impart their knowledge. I admire them for their sacrifice, as their profession is not an easy one.

I admire them, but I no longer see them as tango-deities. They are just like me. Someone, who has a particular unique skill, who is willing to share.

Self-awareness and balance

This I had trouble with. I (with much effort) learned to find my center of balance. Once I knew where and how to hold myself, it greatly aided in supporting and leading my partner, while keeping her on her center of balance.

Caring for my partner

I dance for my partner's benefit first and foremost.

Improvisation

This is my method of stringing together everything that I've learned (thus far) to adapt to any music and partner. It changes every time, even if I use the same steps. This makes the experience fresh and new each time.

Becoming "Me"

I gave up on being like my tango heroes. I realized that I shouldn't mimic anyone, as my tango had to be mine. Good, bad, or otherwise, it is something unique and something I had to be confident enough about. I tried, and I still keep trying.

A new dawn
I'm no longer a Tango zombie and enjoy tango much better now. I am no longer obsessed, nor does my life revolve around tango... Anymore.

It does occupy a rich and special place in my heart. I am in balance... As it should be.

Lead, the best you can... for HER!

2010-04-08T01:01:00.000-07:00

I've been on discussion boards and forums about tango. In the past few months, I've read thread upon thread about technique, terminology, semantics, definitions, the should/should not be's in tango, cultural discussions, sex appeal, CE/OE, blah, blah, blah...

One thing I noticed is that most of those threads are written in the context of one's self and very little consideration given to "her"—The follow.

My take on the whole thing is this: As a lead, everything one learns, does, and executes should be done with respect to, and in consideration for the follow. Why? Without a follow, we are just fools dancing on our own.

If the tango becomes a good tango experience for her, then it inspires the lead to improve. The growth and transitions become easier and more natural.

However, if the lead just dances for himself, then he tries to keep learning without progressing positively. The journey becomes arduous and frustrating.

We try to lead well. Because, in the end... It's all about her.

The day I listened to my partner

2010-03-27T02:43:00.000-07:00

One of the biggest turning points in my tango was the day I learned to listen to my partner. It made all the difference from just dancing to turning each tanda into an beautiful experience.

Concentrating on technical stuff
In the first year of my tango journey, I was obsessed with technical perfection. How to stand, where to put my arm, when to step, how far the stride should be, toe lead, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...

Despite my pursuit of mechanical proficiency, my tandas with my partners felt cold, uneventful, and devoid of emotion. This, despite the fact I knew my execution was correct. It was just not happening. When I try to lead something, my partner doesn't pick up on it. When I try to move, her reactions were delayed, or off.

"What was I doing wrong?" I asked myself. I sat down and postulated that if in fact what I was doing was (technically) correct, it was the transmission of what I wanted her to do was lacking.

Observation and teachers
On my quest to find out the "Why's and How's" of my conundrum, I did two things. I took classes from good teachers and I watched those on the floor whom I considered "Good."

One common thing emerged from both of them. Patience. Nothing was rushed nor forced. I asked myself, what did any of that matter?

Listening, really listening
Many milongas passed and my experimentation continued. I had problems with the patience thing. I didn't get it. Undaunted, I kept trying. I had to. The coldness of the dance still prevailed.

One particularly lovely tanda, it came to me. I GOT IT!!!

The patience thing DID matter. It offered me an opportunity to listen to my partner. I could read her, I could gauge her actions and reactions. By listening to her, I KNEW her. Knowing this, I knew how I could communicate to her.

Giving, receiving, giving... It's working
By giving her my patience, she gave me the answers I needed. This then allowed me to give to her in ways she could follow. My tango was now a two way street.

It was no longer "I'm leading and you follow." It was more like, I led a proposition, she told me her acceptance and to what degree, and it flowed from there.

For the first time, I could see that my partner had fun dancing with me. For the first time, I felt warmth. For the first time. I felt "That Tango Connection."

That was the day I learned to listen. It was that day when tango became a beautiful experience.

We made our tango ours

2010-03-21T22:32:00.000-07:00

So here I am, rendered temporarily miserable and tango incapacitated by arthritis (temporarily broken again). Sitting here, wanting to dance... but can't, has caused me to play movies in my head about tango lessons learned from the passed. I am driven you expound on one particular lesson—Making your tango "Yours."

"...but you dance nothing like him!"
One of the (more experienced) tango people in Seattle danced with Mrs. Ampster a while back. In between songs and tandas, he asked from whom she learned to tango. Her answer "Sonny Newman." He then asked, where did I learn to dance tango. She said, "Sonny Newman."

Surprised, he commented that "You (Mrs. Ampster) dance nothing like him (Ampster)." And, "Neither of you look nothing like Sonny!" Mrs. Ampster told me that exchanged, and we both chuckled.

We thought that to be a compliment. Soon a fter we first started learning tango, he said that "You need to make your dance your own." Back then, it was mysterious and cryptic and the comment flew completely over our heads.

Knowing what we know now...
Back then, we simply lacked the experience (at the time) to understand what the lesson meant. Knowing what we know now, Mrs. Ampster and I pick up subtle nuances as we watch the floor. We can see clearly the differences between those with a "Unique tango identity," and the "Tango embodiments."

Tango embodiments

They dance beautifully. Their tango becomes the embodiment of their teachers and tango heroes.

Unique Tango Identity

These are the people who have evolved their tango into something all their own. Not necessarily showy, nor flashy.

Bizarre evolutionary paths...

I don't quite know how we got to where we did. Mrs. Ampster and I attended only a hand full of teachers over the years. Of all the lessons we took, we only remembered a few things. Despite the advanced things we learned and our attempts to emulate our teachers—who all had something good to share, we always reverted to basic techniques. It was fun, frustrating, confusing, aggravating and strange.

Somewhere during that evolutionary process, we developed a tango identity unique to each one of us. In the end, it worked for us. It (also) seems to work well with those who dance with... at least most of the time. That was the rewarding part of this journey.

R E J E C T I O N ! ! !

2010-03-03T23:38:00.000-08:00

Rejection: re-jec-tion [ri-jek-sh uh n]

-noun

the act or process of rejecting
the state of being rejected
something that is rejected

Synonyms: brush-off, cold shoulder, dismissal, nix, no dice, no go, nothing doing, no way, pass, rebuff, renunciation, repudiation, slap in the face, thumbs down, turn-down, veto

Context-Milonga: He was rejected by the lady when he asked her to dance a tanda.

= = = = = = = =

This was such a devastatingly brutal word when directed my way (Tango-wise): REJECTION!

That word pounds in my brain. It gnaws at my consciousness. It hits my ego like a hammer blow. It is a foot stomping to my soul. It makes me hang my head in shame. It makes me feel like a loser. It makes me want to hide... Well, at least, this was what I though in milonga times past. I've (think) grown up since then. It hurts.

Many have talked about how to say "No" to someone asking for a dance either directly or via cabeceo. A myriad of ways exist to turn down a request to dance a tanda. This is my take on how it felt like to be on the receiving end—Before, and Now

When I was still a newbie...

The fear of rejection was self defeating to my tango development. As a beginner, I was so scared to get turned down that (for the longest time), I was scared to ask other women to dance. If I couldn't dance with several partners, I wasn't able to learn how to lead. Let alone learn to lead different partners who dance differently.

Every time I did get turned down, I would take it personally. I would stew, and dwell over the rejection. I would wonder what I did to merit a rejection. Sometimes, it made me embittered. Sometimes, it made me want to quit tango altogether.

In hindsight, none of what I thought (at the time) ever helped improve my tango. These emotional childish knee-jerk reactions caused mental blocks to learning. Of course it hurt, but then again, it made me think. I needed to find out more and get to the roots (causes) of rejections.

Interviews with lady friends (the followers' side)

During a lively discussion, I asked a few favorite partners WHY they turn down requests for a tanda. They had common reasons of why they would say "No, thank you..."

Legitimate things that lead to rejection

How attractive was the leader's dancing? Bad dancing/leading shows. Women don't want to be a victim
How smooth was the leader's dancing? A rough dancer/leader is obvious. Women do not want to be a rag doll being thrown around
Does the leader stink (Breath, BO, Un-fresh clothes)? News like that spreads fast! Women do not want to suffer through any form of B.O.
How's the leader's demeanor? Leaders who act and look bizarre, strange, scary, rude, arrogant, creepy will scare women away—Anywhere!
They're tired, in pain, and/or taking a break. Much as they would like to keep dancing, women do get tired. Dancing in heels hurts after a while too.
No chemistry. It's a fact some personalities just don't mix. There's no attraction. It would not be an enjoyable dance. Nothing personal
Chatters, Talkers, Singers. Women are there to dance tango—Nothing else.
Wanna-be Teachers. Very obvious as you can see them teach on the milonga floor. Women want to dance, not to be lectured.
Aggressive, stroking, sneaky stalkers. Some people are very aggressive and/or uncouth in their approaches that it sometimes startles and scares the intended recipient.
Dangerous dancers. Some people lead complex and dangerous moves on the floor. Women notice this and some have told me that they would rather be safe and simple than be put in awkward, sometimes dangerous situations.

My friends shared their experiences. They ranged from the funny, absurd, strange, painful, weird, creepy. What was consistent were the aforementioned reasons. They are, legitimate.

Now that I'm a little bit smarter...

Now that I'm a little bit smarter (so I hope), I remember (vividly) the conversation I had with my friends. I take those lessons from their experiences and temper my reactions to their rejections. Yes, I DO get rejected several times.

The difference now is that, I don't take it personally. Their rejections I take as legitimate, and move on. Nothing personal, and no big deal. It happens all the time. I make it a point not to make the mistakes that were outlined. I valued them as priceless "Lessons learned."

A cacohpony of twitches. A symphony of impulses

2010-02-16T02:21:00.000-08:00

I was once a very "Noisy" dancer. I didn't hum, nor sing, nor talk while dancing. By noisy, I meant that my leading had a lot of frivolous motion that just succeeded in confusing my partner. It made for an unpleasant experience for both of us... And, it didn't look good.

A cacophony of twitches
In my first couple of years of tango, just learning how to lead was such a complicated thing. There was so much going on that I was so wrapped up in the whole experience. I kept at it, thinking that I was making progress.

One day, Mr. Ampster was honest enough to point out my affliction—Noisy dancing. We took a video of ourselves, and of each other dancing with other partners as a means of diagnosis.

Much to my chagrin, I saw what she meant. My shoulders bounced and rolled with the beat. My left arm tried to steer my partner's right arm like a boat rudder. My right arm hooked my partner by the arm pit, trying to lift her into turns. I bounced on my knees in a "Foxtrot" kind of way .

What I (then) believed to be "Expressing myself to the music" amounted to (what looked like) nervous twitches. Knowing this, I realized that it could have a lot to do with my partners' not getting what I was trying to lead. It was not my partners—it was me. I was sending out too much "Noise." So much noise that what I was (really) trying to lead was getting lost in the cacophony.

Adjustment in technique
Dancing "Noisy" in open embrace is bad. Dancing "Noisy" in close embrace is worse as the close proximity magnifies the dissonance. I had to make adjustments.

Isolation and Dissociation

The upper body has a different function from the lower body

I had to work on the ability to keep my upper body upright, with my lower half moving independently. Its like dancing the "The Twist." I had to include limbering and stretching exercises

Lower half is for the floor, Upper half is for your partner

My upper half (Center) needs to stick to my partner. It has to be calm and quiet, yet resolute. It is the part of me that my partner needs to feel in order to get the lead
My lower half needs to be grounded to the floor. It's my anchor on each step that needs to be planted before my upper body moves

I am a tango dancer, not an orchestra conductor

An orchestra conductor waves and pumps his arms to the rhythm and beat of the music. I (on the other hand) am a tango dancer. I stopped using arms and shoulders from expressing rhythm and beat. The combination upper and lower body is my expression

Control

An exercise in tension and relaxation. I had to improve my muscle tone from my arms to my legs. It was very difficult to walk smoothly, legs planted (grounded) to the floor on every step, with my upper body leading. It took me a year (or so) to get to a point where I was confident.

A symphony of impulses

It is one thing to correct my mistakes. It is another thing to apply what I've learned into functional leading.

The resolute center

I cannot emphasize enough of what my teachers have taught me. The lead comes from the center—That area in and around my solar plexus. Its the spot that directs your partner to go forward, backward, side, go, stop, slow, fast. Without using the center, my dance feels cold and hollow

Driving legs

The legs plant, while moving the upper body forward in the direction you want to go

Micro leads

Many, many people have said that you can dance a tango without using arms. You just use your chest. Much like life, this rule (IMHO) has it's exceptions. I for one can't do it. As in life I had to make compromises. I call them "Micro leads."

I use muscular impulses (i.e. Relaxing, tensing, gentle pulses) to help signal my intensions. I tense up my upper body to say... "We're slowing." I suddenly loosen up to say... "We're moving forward." I become stiffer, then relax on the right as I swing my upper body to say... "Ocho."

Balance of execution

The hard part of my micro leading is to be smooth and subtle. I need balance. Too much (impulses) will become distracting for my partner. Too little and I may not be able to convey my desires. It becomes an exercise in execution that can only be done via trial and error.

It seems that the more I grow in tango, the more I find things to work on. The only constant I find is mastering the basics. All of the stuff that I just talked about is part of refining the basics to make the dance my own.

One last dance goodbye

2010-02-15T00:31:00.001-08:00

I have a friend whom I miss dearly. Such a long time has passed. Too many things going on.

This evening, I see her in the milonga. Radiant. I dance a tanda with her and it was marvelous. The evening continues and many tandas pass—Neither of us are able to catch up.

The evening draws to a close, and we have said our goodbyes. Dancing shoes turn into street shoes. Coats are donned, as we are all dressed to go our separate ways into the cold, wet Seattle night.

The last song of the tanda comes. One parting look at my friend as the music blares. We dance in the small space in between chairs, tables, and amidst people ready to leave—fully clothed in cold weather street attire.

One beautiful song, one last beautiful tango, one beautiful friend, one last dance goodbye.

Dancing the silences and pauses

2010-01-22T22:51:00.000-08:00

This is a follow-up to my post, "Navigation... Where it all comes together." In one of the comments, tangocherie had mentioned, "You are totally correct. But don't forget the pauses...dancing the silences. You don't have to keep up perpetual motion. Women love to pause."

This caused me to remember one of the things my teacher taught me...

Mistaken impressions of "Perpetual motion"
When I was in my early tango days, I was under the (mistaken) impression that when you dance, you dance ALL THE TIME. Meaning, you were constantly stepping, stepping, stepping.

In retrospect, I looked like a hamster (the rodent) in a wheel. I kept going, and going, and going and buzzed around the floor. It must have been a "not so pleasant" tango experience for my partner. I apologize. I had no idea that, not only was it not good for my partner, but, it also did NOT look good. My first tango teacher called my attention...

"Stops are steps"
According to my first tango teacher, one should not barrel through the dance. I just did not get this concept. I REALLY thought that dancing meant constantly moving... like Disco.

I "Got it" when he said two things:

"You need to listen to the music. You move when it does, you stop when it does. Accelerate, and slow down to the flow and nuances of the music."
"Stops are steps." Pauses, hesitations, just not moving if appropriate count as steps

Realizing the significance, I went "Aha!" I've been doing that ever since. Of course, I've refined the technique over time.

Building tension for hesitations, stops, and pauses

First and foremost, I've learned to really listen to tango music. There are distinct silences and pauses interspersed in lots of tango music.

Second, I've learned to build muscular tension smoothly to be in tune with the music. When the music starts to slow, I stiffen myself enough to smoothly interrupt what I was leading a split-second earlier. I do this for hesitations, stops or pauses. This gives my partner clear signals that tell her that we are changing pace. All she has to do is wait, then she knows what to follow. When we do come to a full stop, my tension releases—Like taking your foot off the car's break pedal. Which in turn is the signal for your partner that your about to move again.

Its a very, very subtle thing. Most especially when you dance in close embrace in a packed milonga. However, according to my partners, when I (occasionally) get it right, the lead for these hesitations, stops, and pauses are so clear. I've been told they like it.

An added bonus
Taking a second (or two) to hesitate, stop, and pause allows your partner the perfect opportunity to do adornos (a.k.a. embellishments) without disrupting the rhythm of the dance!

Moving is nice. Dancing the silences and the pauses are just as nice.

- – — – -

For illustrative purposes, I've included a clip of Jennifer Bratt and Ney Mello dancing to "Poema." Listen to the music, as there are very distinctive pauses and silences in this piece. Observe Ney as he hestates, slows, and stops to the changing rhythm of the music. Observe where and WHEN Jennifer does most of her adornos—During Ney's...

Note that this is a performance. His pauses will be readily apparent. Had this been in milonga, it would be very "Intensely silent."

Seattle tango topographies

2010-01-17T23:02:00.000-08:00

I have read (and heard) many say that tango is like a metaphor for life. In this case, tango in Seattle took some twists and turns and evolved into (what I think), is one of the best tango communities in the world.

Beginnings

In the late eighties, tango was introduced to Seattle by Sonny Newman. He was the one who first started teaching Argentine Tango. His classes would start a core group of people who would build, influence, and expand what the Seattle tango community is today. Inspirational, vibrant, elegant, and ever evolving, albeit small.

Growing pains
As in any art form, the initial introduction of this medium produced a cadre who had a common thread—Argentine tango. However, their preferences in tango varied from the intimately close to the full blown show stuff. Like rhizomes emanating from the central root node, they branched out and created nodes of their own. The foundations of Seattle tango had "taken root."

The styles

Imagine these tango rhizomes and nodes growing within the same root-barricaded plot. Imagine the network thriving and growing. There would be one inevitable result from this crowding... conflict.

The nuevo following flourished into a large group of dancers who emulated their heroes. They danced beautifully, showy, flashy, large, and with panáche. It was wonderful to watch.

The salon people, thanks to the very influential efforts of a small and dedicated caucus of purist, traditionalist, tango dancers, evolved into Seattle's milonguero crowd. Elegant, meditative, intimate, passionate was their hallmark.

Both of these disciplines deserve commendation as (1) it got people excited, and kept expanding the following; (2) it covered and catered to the Seattle tango demographic which spanned from teens to octogenarians. It made people happy.

Traffic and congestion

Seattle's tango evolution can be compared to it's road and hi-way system. The community quickly outgrew its capacity to manage its volume. It resulted in (tango) grid lock.

Both styles are beautiful. Both have their place in the world. However, as the numbers of both following grew, it forced tango dancers to dance in tighter and tighter spaces. This (just like a congested freeway) caused complications.

Collisions, lane disruptions, stiletto heel impaling and slashing, toe crushing, kicking, etc. became common place. Cliques abounded. Tensions within the milongas were high between the practitioners of the divergent tango styles.

Cultivating expertise

The burgeoning Seattle tango following provided impetus for inspired members of the tango community. They furthered the art of tango by importing big name and (quite a few) world renowned tango teachers. Not only was the Seattle tango community growing, but getting better—Much better.

Diversification
It was inevitable for diversification to happen. Having fervent nuevo and milonguero styles dancing in close proximity was complicated. The ever tightening milongas were getting in the way of everyone's fun. Something was bound to happen... and it did.

Emergence of the nuevo (open-embrace) venue

The most common desire of the practitioners of the nuevo style tango was their need to express themselves. This necessitates space and freedom of movement. Having to dance in packed milonguero crowds caused challenges in navigation, and floor etiquette.

Dedicated nuevo organizers opened their own venues. These venues were dedicated to, managed by, and frequented by this specific crowed. It provided the appropriate space and consistency needed for this group to flourish, enjoy, and dance this energetic form of tango.

A side benefit was to provide organizers a better feel for the teachers they were importing. It also trained and developed a new crop of instructors more appropriate for this demographic. They got better.

Bolstering the milonguero

By the nuevo crowd having their own venue, elegant and intimate milonguero dancers now had the unimpeded freedom to move in close-quarters without the fear of contact nor collision. The push now was to improve the milonguero tango standard.

Milonguero specialist teachers were imported. Floor etiquette was stressed. The result was La Garua—One of the best places to dance tango in Seattle (my personal favorite). The organizers of this marvelous milonga (in no small part) are greatly responsible for influencing Seattle's development as (IMHO) one of the best close-embrace tango communities... anywhere.

Harmony
One would think that this schism would result in a permanent rift between the open and close-embrace practitioners. On the contrary. When numbers of each crew congregate (e.g. Dance Underground, Seattle Tangomagic), each has learned to compensate for each other. This allows everyone space, etiquette, and the observance of the line of dance for everyone to enjoy. It's a peculiarly Seattle oddity.

allseattletango.com: A listing of all thing tango in Seattle

Navigation... Where it all comes together

2010-01-04T01:29:00.000-08:00

When I first saw a tango floor a few years ago, I thought (as many non-tango people thought) that it was a simple dance as there was not much going on. I was so wrong.

Is there anything easy in learning Argentine Tango? It seems that things get progressively harder the more I learn, with milonga navigation being one of the biggest struggles I've had to deal with.

I've found that as a leader (in tango), this is where my brain blows up on the dance floor. Why? You have to lead your partner well (which is a lot to think of), dance well (yourself), keep your partner safe, pay close attention to your environment, anticipate the moves of those around you, dance with (acceptable) musicality—Simultaneously MOVING across the floor in erratic heavy dance traffic!

Practice and perseverance have helped me to cope over the years. The following are what I think (I need) to take into consideration while leading my partner though the controlled chaos of a crowded milonga floor...

Going with the ebbs and surges of flow

When I merge onto a milonga floor, the flow does not stay consistent. Depending on what the dancers on the floor do, the flow may ebb into a barely moving mass. Or, turn into a surge moving away and leaving me behind, which forces me to keep up the pace... only to be stopped by another ebb in flow.

This constant shifting of flow on the floor is something a leader must deal with constantly. It's not so bad when the milonga is sparsely attended, a leader will have floor space and is forgiving of mistakes. The challenge happens when I dance in a pack, much like being caught in a very tight cycling peloton where I have to be able to bring to bear, all skills and be flexible in dealing with this conundrum.

My partner needs to be able to trust me... Implicitly!

I dance for my partner. I try to make her look good and feel good. She needs to trust me without question, otherwise that supernatural "Tango enchantment" will not happen.

In order to achieve this level of trust, I try not get carried away and get lost in my own dance that I lose touch of the environment around me. I keep my partner away from the couple using the flailing tango stiletto heels of death. I try to keep her safe from being slashed, stepped on, kicked, cut, and impaled.

I don't use my partner as a battering ram by NOT running her into chairs, tables, walls, posts, and other people.

Giros, molinetes, check steps, rock steps, etceteras

Remember all of that stuff your teachers taught you in tango class? Notably, figures like giros, molinetes, check steps, ocho cortados, rock steps, and other related "stationary-possible" moves.

I talked about "Ebbs" in traffic flow. When this happens, what do you do? You stall, but, gracefully keep moving in place. You don't want to just stop, rather, you need to keep you and your partner moving in poetic motion. This is a good time to use your "Figures."

Respect space, dance small

I respect my space, and the space of others. Its a common courtesy. I learned to dance in as small a space as possible. That way, when I find myself in a tightly packed floor, I can dance a small yet intensely beautiful tango—At least, I try.

I was taught that one should learn to tango in a space (roughly) 4 ft long by 4 ft wide—The size of 4 large floor tiles. Dancing this small also gives me the ability to keep my partner safe from the following:

Overtakers and speeders

Those who are in such a hurry that they feel compelled to overtake everyone in their way (*Cough* I USED to be a perpetrator... Apologies)

Lane-cutters

Those who suddenly cut in front of people (related to the over-taker)

Tailgaters

Those who follow so closely behind other couples (I'm occasionally guilty of this... Sorry)

Windbags

Those who engage in A LOT of trivial talking BEFORE they start dancing. Thus, (inconsiderately) blocking all dance traffic behind them causing a traffic jam.

BIG move dancers

Those who dance big (which is not a problem on a sparse floor) and insist on doing so when the floor is very crowded

I try to dance as smooth as possible

Its easy to march, stomp, and lumber along like an elephant. It's easy to bounce up and down like a ball. All of which makes for an unpleasant experience for my partner.

Being smooth was very difficult for me as it required me to learn to walk by adjusting my gait and how I landed and rolled my feet. I practiced walking in front of the mirror. I (briefly) did the book atop the head thing. I tried to be elegant and smooth, yet still dance manly. Oh, and I had to do all of that with a partner in close embrace... I'm still trying.

The Lynch pin—bringing it all together

So, after learning a lot of the nuances of tango and (trying) to make it special for my partner, it all comes together in moving across the dance floor in a crowded and packed milonga. It's a lot to think of, plan, and execute. It requires A LOT of concentration and care.

There was no easy way to do it, and required copious amounts of practice. In the end it pays off when you get it right.

One year ago today...

2009-12-25T11:30:00.000-08:00

One year ago today, I published the first slew of posts in Ampstertango. My intent was, and is, to share my experiences and perspectives of leading, so those learning to lead can:

Learn from my mistakes
Have a different reference point for leading
Making your social tango as simple as possible, yet as beautiful as you can make it
Make the dance better for your partner. It is in the end all about HER

I've been writing a lot this past quarter (of 2009) but have not been publishing. They are relevant thoughts written in a jumble of verse. I know what they mean, but read by another, it all amounts to rambling. Bear with me. The language will come. I promise.

It has been a wonderful year. Things are what we make of it, and next year should be great!

Thank you for your kindness,

Ampstertango

The hips don't lie

2009-11-26T00:34:00.000-08:00

No, this post is not about incorporating "Cuban motion" into tango. Rather, its about what I learned in an eye opening lesson with Eva and Patricio.

I had asked to not be taught steps nor patterns. I wanted technique, technique, technique. In the span of a couple of hours, my brain ached from trying to absorb all of the corrective lessons. One lesson imparted upon me was so simple. So small. So clear. It's effect, remarkable—The weight is where the hips are.

Somewhere between clueless and passable...

As I slogged through the morass of learning tango, I was determined to (hopefully) be proficient someday. I thought I was progressing well, as I had a vast repertoire. I had become an accomplished "Step collector." Despite this, I felt that my dancing to be awkward and forced. It didn't dawn on me that my (pseudo) technique left me over/under-reaching and generally off balance. I was just compensating by muscling and counterbalancing.

I know that I had to do something and find better options.

Milonguero...

After the first couple of years of dancing, I discovered the milonguero style of tango. In this paradigm, where you are weight forward, simplistic in delivery and connection is paramount. I had discovered what I was looking for (at the time).

I have been dancing "ala milonguero" for a couple of years now, and it has worked well for me thus far. My issue at hand is variety. Every now and then, I feel like I've hit a plateau and sometimes, I feel my dance to be repetitive. It's a good thing that in tango, we switch partners often. Being stuck in this paradigm with one partner would make things really boring.

I was once again looking for improvements. This time, I was looking to refinement of technique for the answer.

Enter Eva and Patricio...

They went about my conundrum very methodically. They had asked me to dance with Mrs. Ampster. Also, unknown to me, Patricio had observed me in a recent milonga and had some observations to share.

Their method was to watch, diagnose, correct, and improve. They did that, very well.

We had a slew of observations, recommendations, and corrective actions. The one adjustment they made that made a world of difference for me was where to place my weight.

Weight placement and hips...

Where you hold your weight determines your posture, which determines what you can (and cannot) do in tango. The adjustments were very slight, their effect huge.

Hips very slightly back, your upper body pitches forward, putting your weight slightly forward of the balls of your feet... Milonguero. Perfect for dancing tight.

Hips very slightly forward, you straighten up, putting your weight vertically above the balls of your feet... Salon. Versatile and opens up new movement possibilities.

The sliding hip adjustments provided a technique that allowed for a more dynamic and fluid dance. I found myself always in balance, eliminating the need to muscle and counter balance.

I hope now that I can impart a better tango experience to my partner... We'll see if it makes a difference.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A word about Eva Lucero and Patricio Touceda

(Quoted from their Facebook page)

Eva and Patricio have danced together since year 2001. Both of them started dancing at a very young age.
Eva started at age 7 as a ballet student. Patricio was 10 years old when he took his first folk dance class
They have more than 15 years of experience as professional dancers.

In the most recent years Eva and Patricio were starred in different important productions, the most notorious include Luis Bravo's Forever Tango Show; and ZAIA, the first show staged by "Cirque du Soleil" in Asia, at the Venetian Hotel in Macau. Eva and Patricio are the first and only Argentine Tango couple to be part of this world famous company.

At the moment Eva and Patricio are working in the creation of their new show, which is expected to be fully conceived and presented to the public in 2010. Meantime, the continue to share their art with people all over the world.

Lead & follow in tango is not "black and white"

2009-11-01T23:55:00.000-08:00

I have been in many a conversation before regarding who and what is "Leading and following." This is my opinion on the subject. It is agnostic cultural nuances. Rather, it is based on what I've heard, experienced, and observed.

Traditional Lead-follow dogma—The black and the white

The following is what I know, based on what had been initially taught to me.

–The leader (Active role)

The leader is in control of the dance and is the authority
The leader initiates the moves, pace, steps, tempo, etc.
The expectation is that whatever is led, is what is to be followed

–The follower (Passive role)

The follower is the person who follows whatever the leader initiates
The follower completes the initiated movement
The follower determines the embrace (close, open, etc.)

Did this paradigm work for me? Yes and No.

Yes, it worked for me when I was a tango beginner. It gave me a starting frame of mind to build on. I thought that it was an absolute rule and treated it as such. Not knowing any better, it worked for me.

No, it did not work for me when I learned how to "Dial in" to my partner. I started feeling the whole exercise to be forced and un-naturally rigid. The only one who was having fun, was me. Dancing with followers who were experienced enough to compensate for my shortcomings were the only ones where I felt the tanda to be (acceptably) good. Otherwise, it felt awkward.

Dynamic interactions—Black, white, and shades of grey

–Realizations

As I grew in my tango, I found that more and more, the rigid lead and follow model wasn't quite working out for me. The dance with my partner was less and less enjoyable each time. The more I learned, the more I realized that forced leading did not work for me, much more so for my partners.

–Dogmatic dynamism of lead and follow

I am not advocating the abandonment of the traditional lead-follow dogma. On the contrary, it is a standard that must be kept as it is one of the pillars of tango that makes it great, endearing, and enduring. It provides the roles that makes tango work.

That being said, what I've learned to do is to maintain the traditional standard and tweak it into something much like a real time loving relationship

Active and passive leading

"Active leading" is leading like you mean it. Lead with confident conviction with the expectation that you have put in the work to improve your technique.

What I have learned to apply is what I'd like to call, "Passive leading." It operates under the truth that all followers follow differently. When a movement is initiated, give time for the follow to finish. Feel where her weight's at. Feel where and when she tenses and relaxes her muscles. Feel how she feels the music. When the time is right, the leader FOLLOWS and compliments her movement to flow and make it look and feel right—Regardless if she's right or wrong, it doesn't matter. Leading has to be give-and-take and mutually rewarding.

Passive and active following

"Passive following" happens when the follower, follows the led movement... as led.

There will come a time when the follower will grow out of her beginner mold and develop a tango persona of her own. When that time comes, there is a very strong chance that she will engage in "Active following." She will hear the music and dance to it. She will move within your movement. She will embellish within the following. Her following is now dynamic and highly personal. When this time comes, one will know it and feel it. One must be prepared to adapt and assimilate her uniqueness into the overall leading and following dynamic.

= = = = = = = = = = =

This leading and following thing was simple in the beginning. However, as time and technique progress, so does the lead-follow relationship needs to evolve. It is necessary to make it happen for the follower... by leading well.

How many steps does it take to be good at tango?

2009-10-20T00:12:00.000-07:00

"How many steps does it take to be good at tango?" Was a question I asked myself when I first went down this road. Coming from a ballroom background, it made perfect sense to think this way. You see, in the ballroom world, dance progression is linear. You go from Bronze, to Silver, to Gold levels. It's like school. You're taught the steps first, then somewhere along the way, you get taught technique—with more payment and classes.

Confusion of thought & technique

With that preconceived notion, I was trying to learn under what (I thought) was proper. It amounted to learning all the steps I could memorize. Thinking and operating that way felt safe. It felt gratifying. I could count the steps I learned (or thought I did), and racked them up like trophies. I thought it was good value for what I was paying. I was, a "Step Collector."

Failure of delivery

Armed with a repertoire of steps, I braved the milonga floor. Frustration and disillusionment soon followed. If you remember, I had a post called, "End results—Her tango look." How my partner looked after the tanda was my guage on how I did. It was my report card. To my surprise, their faces had the look of "Relief" on them... relief that the tanda was over. I was (in effect) throwing them steps in my arsenal and putting them into a state of confusion, terror, bewilderment, etc. Whatever it was, it was unpleasant for my partners. I also thought that I got turned down way too much. I had to diagnose the problem and figure something out.

Step realizations

Despite my vast and advanced "Step" knowledge (ballroom paradigm) I don't think it was happening for my partners, thus neither for me. "What was I doing wrong?" I asked myself. I decided to watch the floor and the more experienced leaders. I watched those who were considered to be really good leads and wondered... Why?

It dawned on me that these admirable leads only used around 4 to 5 recognizable steps or patterns, perhaps and extra embellishment here or there. Other than that, that was it! It wasn't the amount of stuff they could do that mattered, it was HOW WELL, they did the few things they executed.

Shifting to focus on technique

Knowing of my folly, I embarked on a new paradigm of learning Argentine Tango. Concentrate on the technique, first and foremost. Instead of learning steps, I learned to DELIVER the steps. This was my "short list" of things I needed to work on:

Find my center of balance: Be able to move without knocking my partner over, nor falling all over myself
How to land my feet: Landing, shifting weight, stepping, pointing as smooth as possible
Weight changes: How to lead by shifting weight, rather than muscling through a movement
Leading with the "Core" (chest): Leading movements with the ONLY point of contact that matters... The chest
Intention and commitment: I had to develop the confidence to make something happen. Anything tentative would have gotten lost
Smoothness: Take all of the preceding, combine them, and try to make them work together as smooth as possible

This was my short list. There's so much stuff that went into them that they seemed like blurs.

I tried to make my tango as simple as possible—just done well. Which in my experience was even much more difficult than just learning steps.

So how many steps do you need to know? My answer is: Not many. Just deliver them very, very well.

I write this blog...

2009-09-30T09:32:00.000-07:00

I write this blog because this tango journey of mine has taught me so much life experiences that has brought so much value to my life. Great friends, lovely memories, an art form that I can be reasonably good at, food, wine, a rich social life, etc. All of them things to cherish and relish.

I write this blog to share my experiences from the dance floor. Because, tango is such a beautiful thing that maybe someone, somewhere, somehow will be encouraged to check this tango thing out... and get hooked.

I write this blog because tango is one of the most difficult and (simultaneously) beautiful hobbies I have ever indulged in, that I thought there should be a record of it somewhere.

I write this blog because, as a leader, my learning process has been long and hard. I want others to avoid the mistakes I've made.

I write this blog because I want to add value to a leader's skill-set. Not because I care for the leaders, but because I care for the beautiful followers who have to put up with us. The better we lead, the better the followers' tanda.

I write this blog dear friend, amigo, ami, tomodachi, tovarich, and kaibigan, so we can all learn from each other and spread the dance and the skill of this wonderful tango experience to others. We need more, and better leaders on the milonga floor. There is not enough of us.

I write this blog as a thank you for my heavenly tango partners who have allowed me the privilege of a tanda. Without you, I am nothing and "Tango" is just a word.

"Thank you" for my very special tanguera

2009-09-14T09:45:00.000-07:00

I was at my favorite milonga this weekend. As I briefly watched the floor, a thought just dawned on me...

I have had the pleasure of dancing the tango with you from the very first time you set foot on a milonga floor, up to the present day.

I have felt your progression through your first ever dance. I've felt your development as you went from teacher to teacher. I've felt your progression from my bearing your full weight, to you finding your own balance. I've felt you evolve from being a heavy stepper to walking as if you were on rollers. I've felt your brain tick as they you try to figure out what was being led, to seemingly mind-melding and responding with instantaneous responses. I've felt you go from a nervous, sometimes terrified hold to an embrace only a consummate tanguera can do. I've seen you go from a wallflower to someone I can no longer get a tanda with because someone else always cabeceo's you before I.

To you, I thank you. I thank you for hanging in there and suffering through the effort and time it takes to be good at tango. Thank you for being there. Thank you for growing. Thank you for being beautiful in soul and movement. Thank you for being a beautiful tanguera.

Thank you for still wanting to dance with me.

End results—Her tango look

2009-09-01T11:38:00.000-07:00

One of the best indications that a woman is having a wonderful time at tango is her facial expression during the tanda. Some look like they're in a trance, some wear a smile, some are in a sublime and heavenly place.

When women are having a NOT so good time, her expressions will be in stark contrast. She looks bewildered, shocked, confused, annoyed, and sometimes, upset. A myriad of emotions, other than happy. Instead of enjoying the tanda, she's trying to think, analyze, compensate, and figure out what the lead is trying to do.

She needs to FEEL you

Improving one's leading technique increases the chances of your partner's fulfillment during the time spent with you. The lead needs to be unmistakeably clear, concise, deliberate, and vibrant. You need to tell her (without words) what you want to happen.

She needs to understand what you're trying to do without vagueness and ambiguity. You shouldn't talk—She needs to feel you. You need to convey your thoughts, wishes, and intentions with the language of your body. At the same time maintaining balance, fluidity, floor craft, navigation, and musicality. She needs to feel that you care, are confident, and that you will protect her.

When a woman wears facial expressions of apprehension...

The tentative & hollow lead = Her frustrated look

This happens when the lead is not quite sure of what he wants to do. The leader's lack of confidence is manifested by fizzled leads. He starts something, becomes tentative, the movement fades. The follow snaps out of her concentration and wonders, "What's next?" This causes lapses on concentration on both sides. When the leader does decide to continue, he catches the follow thinking, and an awkward close embrace collision occurs. If this persists throughout the tanda, it becomes extremely frustrating for the follower.

The leader who does NOT use his core as the source of the lead, tends to generate the same frustrated look from her, as the lead dissipates, it causes her to wonder, "Where did you go?"

The no-technique-step lead = Her baffled (and panicked) look

This type of leader creates a mental and physical challenge for the follow. Especially, when the lead is obsessed with fancy footwork, patterns, and moves while lacking a fundamental understanding of basic technique. The follow gets knocked off her axis and muscled and/or forced into doing goofy stuff. It feels awkward, contrived, sometime dangerous.

"What are you doing?" is the question written on her face.

The band conductor lead = Her look of annoyance

Followers look annoyed with leaders who dance as if they're conducting a band. Their shoulders pop up and down with their arms pumping with the beat. They generate so much body noise that it obfuscates whatever it is they are trying to lead.

The wrestler lead = Her shocked look

Several followers have told me that this is one type of people they really don't care for. This happens when the lead heaves the woman around like a sack of potatoes. It hurts them, it shocks them, and is not pleasant by any means.

The creepy lead = Her terrified look

Several follows have asked me to help them avoid several people before. Because, according to them, "They're creepy."

Their practices of malevolence goes from stroking, roving hands, squeezing, licking, and a lot of other things which infuriates decent tango dancers.

Tango is intimate enough as it is, and these behaviors are simply inexcusable.

Trying to achieve her look of "Bliss"

I would like to kindly refer you (dear reader) to some of my older posts as reference. My blog is all about the leader's steady improvement down the path of making it "All about her."

Her sublime tango look

Pictures courtesy of the masterful eye of Paul Yang's Seattle Tango Magic 2009 album. Thank you Paul!

My intensely silent tango

2009-08-18T23:39:00.000-07:00

I wrote about taking breaks during the milongas to watch and appreciate other tango dancers. In doing so, I have made another epiphany—That I don't have to be like/look like anyone else—I can have a method and style of my own.

Really good dancers I've observed

Swooshers

I just call them swooshers because of the way they tango. They have large circular movements that "Swoosh" their way across the milonga floor. They go by in a blur of motion.

I once idolized these dancers because of the admirable agility of their delivery. It was like watching a show. I thought that it would be cool to gain the adulation of the audience. IT was a good ego stroker.

I have since gotten tired of this, as (IMHE) its a lot of motion. There is very good connection between the partners as they are concentrating on their motion. Its fun to watch when one expertly swooshes down the floor. It is however, a bit too much on the "Show" aspect of things.

Walkers

These are the dancers who tango very simply, yet elegantly. They move smoothly as if on rollers. There really is not much to see when they dance, other than the fact that their followers look like they're in a trance. To a beginner, these guys would look "Boring." The big difference here was that magical tango connection.

After watching intensely, I have come to appreciate this form of tango, and decided to make it my own.

My intensely silent tango

Everyone needs to dance their own tango. I call mine, an "Intensely silent tango." A tango that to the casual observer, is not much to watch. However, to my partner at the time, the lead is LOUD, clear, and vibrant. This, regardless of how simple the motion being led.

In order to do this, I have had to develop the following:

Control the power and delivery

I had to temper my movements to be confident and resolute with no tentativeness. No excessive/unnecessary motions. Do just enough to make the movement happen. No more no less.

Know where her feet are at all times

I have had to learn to lead her. Land her weight where I need her to be before I continue the next movement.

Wait for her

Wait for her to finish her step, movement, embellishment before continuing. Tango is a two way street, and sometimes my partner embellishes. Let her finish and and enjoy the moment.

Keep the chest consistent

Now more than ever, my lead has come from the chest, as it should be. I am always conscious of my tango posture. If the posture fails, the lead becomes weak.

Assisting the lead with Impulses (Micro leads)

I sometimes use muscular impulses to make my leading clearer for my follow. A muscular twitch here and there as appropriate. I utilize this most especially while dancing to complicated music and/or fast music.

I employ these techniques in the attempt to not only better my tango. But most importantly, to make the experience better for my partner.

The first time I danced with a "Stranger"

2009-08-08T10:48:00.000-07:00

When I first learned tango, it was with Mrs. Ampster. She was my permanent partner. We practiced together, we got good together, we progressed together. I was one of the fortunate ones to have had a partner who shares the same interest.

When we were still learning, we normally attended group classes where you shift partners. Ok, this was class, that was normal, I guess. This experience was my first exposure to different partners. We were all beginners learning in open embrace. No big deal.

After a few months, Mrs. Ampster and I started going to milongas. I'd like to think we were getting good. At least, Mrs. Ampster was. She was getting asked to dance a lot.

I on the other hand, I was to too terrified to ask anyone else. I think it was fear of rejection over anything else. My "fragile" ego would not survive a trouncing...

On one particularly bland milonga evening where dancing was sparse with the evening's ambience dead. A beautiful blond lady came up from behind me and asked...

"Would you like to dance with me?"

I gasped, turned around and said,

"I would love to."

What the hell am I doing!!??

This the monologue of my brain in turmoil that followed:

OMG, What the hell am I doing?

That's OK, we can make this work.

Here's my left arm. Oh good she took it

Here she comes!

Oh no, her arm just went over my shoulder, Gaaah! Close embrace!

I can't move.

These are NOT my wife's boobs!

Breathe, breathe, breeeeaaaatheee

My heart's racing. Relax, relaaaxxxx, breaaaaathe in annnnd ouuuut

When's the music going to start? Oh, it already began...

Now what!? I can feel HER breathing! She's alive!

Ok, calm down. Think of what your teacher taught you

Keep it simple, keep it simple... and, walk, walk, pause... pause... ocho aaaaand boleo

Hey, this works! Let's walk some more. Just walk, keep walking...

Listen to the music, syncopate, rhythm, follow the beat....

I'll stop talking to myself now...

Epilogue

That was the first time I had REALLY danced with a stranger. I was amazed at how well it worked. I kept it simple. After I had gotten over the initial shock, I was able to think clearly. After which, I had enough confidence in myself to just let go. It was one of the very first tango epiphanies I've had.

It was an eye opening, and magnificently liberating experience.

Ampster's other blog

2009-08-05T20:18:00.000-07:00

AmpsterTango is my blog exclusively for things tango. I recently added a couple of posts that related to Philippine history. Interesting, but out of context.

That being said, I created a new blog, "Ampster Ponders... Filipino style." This alternate blog will house my ruminations of living in this wonderful land called the area in and around Seattle from a Philippine point of view.

Oh, and that will be the venue where I post my "Foodie Porn."

Please come visit sometime——> Ampster Ponders

AmpsterTango

Things that get in the way of a good tanda

2009-07-20T00:30:00.000-07:00

My early years at tango was fraught with issues and erroneous assumptions on my part. Knowing them and their negative effects helped me be aware which aided my improvement.

The following are my visceral observations on why some tandas (in the past) didn't happen...

Distractions to a good tanda

The blow-by-blow sportscaster in my head

There are times when I just could not shut up the voice in my head. The sportscaster that gives every detail at every second. It gets in the way of good delivery because I could only think and concentrate on one thing at a time. Listening to the blow-by-blow account of my tango (good or bad) gets in the way of dancing tango.

Rectifying this was a matter of confidence building, brought about by (correct) practice. When I developed an acceptable level of self-confidence, then self trust happened, quieting that annoying voice. It took me about a year to get over this.

The over-analyzer in me

This happens when I put too much thought into the dance, seeking perfection in every step. In the desire to achieve perfection, the brain ponders and formulates

what, how, and where to place this foot, where to time this weight change, etc, etc, etc... ad nauseam. One is talking to one's self and giving instructions to the body, causing and brain to be confused. One side of the brain is thinking of what to do, and the other side is telling the body what to do—simultaneously. Doesn't work very well.

I overcame this by developing muscle memory. Simply put, you train yourself as proficiently as possible. This includes proper technique, execution, and (eventually) improvisation. Keep doing this until it becomes second nature. Then forget it. When you need it, the brain will remember and it just happens.

The pseudo show dancer

In the very beginning, I thought that being good at tango meant having the killer moves. It was that way in the ballroom world, and I had assumed (mistakenly) it was the same in tango. The result, at the very least, makes the recipient of the "moves" annoyed. At worst it makes the recipient feel (possibly) humiliated. It was a mistake born of ignorance.

I was (at one time) one of the people who can be hazards on a crowded milonga floor. In order to do show moves, you need space. Valuable space which is not always available in a crowded milonga.

Learning of appropriate protocols in a milonga opened my eyes to this and quit it. To my amazement, dancing simpler was much better.

Mirror watching and being self-conscious

While learning tango it was always a struggle to answer the question, "How do I look?" When you ask people, they won't tell you that you were bad. Chances are, they'll patronize you for fear of hurting your feelings.

To answer that nagging question, I would take advantage of looking at myself in the mirror whenever I had the chance and asses my form. It did nothing positive, as it causes me to concentrate on myself and not on my partner. I wasn't paying attention to her, causing my lead to be tentative, causing her to misread my lead. A flub resulted.

Correcting this was easy. I made a conscious effort to concentrate on my partner. After all, it is all about her.

The talker

If tango were not such a complicated dance, talking would be fine. However, tango being as intricate and as instinctually intense as it is, lends itself to being ruined by simple distractions—such as prattling away incessantly. I perpetrated this for a simple reason. I was trying to hide my lack of skill.

I realized this as a mistake when I danced with someone who did just as I. I found it distracting. It made my leading harder... much harder. If it made it difficult for me, then it must have made it difficult for my follow—Shut up I did.

A really good tanda

My objective for having a really good tanda would be one that was soulful–where my partner and I achieve that level of fervor that makes you WANT to dance with that person at that time. It's almost a trance-like state where each one is so in-tune with each other's nuances that the exchange of leading and following is as natural and purposeful as water rushing into a majestic waterfall. It is a magical experience where neither can explain why nor how the tandas was beautiful. It just was.

None of the beauty that is tango would be possible if the aforementioned distractions permeated. It takes a conscious effort to improve. Its hard to break old habits. But, in the case of tango, the return on investment via progressive improvement is well worth the effort.

Let go and let it happen

2009-07-14T00:00:00.000-07:00

Learning tango has been one of the most difficult learning endeavors I've undertaken. My post grad course of study was easier. It was however, not as fulfilling nor as fun. These are the experiences I've encountered during this long process. Some lessons I've applied to tango and other activities in my life.

Beginning to learn tango
Learning tango was a particularly painful learning process. When Mrs. Ampster and I first took up this beautifully intricate dance, we ended up in a lot of fights. We contested who was right, and who was wrong. We postulated on the creation and origins of tango. We practiced techniques which we weren't really sure of the proper execution.

If we weren't fighting we were struggling. My brain ached. My body was short-circuiting from muscle memory versus contravening synapse commands.

Too much training
The learning process lead to many peaks and troughs. We have learned so much, forgotten more, then re-learned again. The dance repertoire grew by leaps and bounds. Many an hour was spent perfecting and practicing balance, form, movement, placement, steps, patterns, figures, etc. etc. etc.

There is such a thing as too much training. In this case, the "Law of diminishing returns" apply. It states:

"... In a production system with fixed and variable inputs (say factory size and labor), beyond some point, each additional unit of the variable input yields smaller and smaller increases in output. Conversely, producing one more unit of output costs more and more in variable inputs."

What does this have to do with tango? In the context of social dancing in a milonga: The more stuff you learn, the less you get to use and apply on the milonga floor. How much of your learned repertoire can you (do you) actually, realistically use on the milonga floor? Master the basics.

If you watch the experienced dancers (who are worth watching), you'll find that if you observe often enough you'll find that what they do is repetitive. They've learned to do, what they do, really well. The variety happens with different partners at different tandas. The practice of switching partners makes the experience new and fresh.

Too many mind!
I heard that in a martial arts movie shot in Japan. It is a literal translation of what amounts to "Don't think too much."

The scene takes place when an apprentice is trying (in vain) to match his opponents. He fails, and gets beaten up every time. He gets up every time, then the result is the same. Failure, frustration, dejection, and shame. His master walks up and says "Too much mind..."

Heroic efforts can only go so much. Like the law of diminishing returns (above), this also happens to the mind. Too much thinking gets in the way of efficient execution... a.k.a. Analysis paralysis.

You need to be aware of the environment. Other dancers, the floor, tables, chairs, the music, musicality, line of dance, and your partner. That is enough to think about. Thinking about what you learned and how to do it will cause an overload and ruin the dance for you and your partner.

"Too many mind, upsets harmony."

Let go and let it happen
Knowing what you know, it is now time to stop thinking and analyzing! Forget it all.

Your training which concentrates on the physical aspects of tango has already been engrained into your sub-conscious—That if of course, if you've done your due diligence and learned your lessons well. It's called muscle memory. Your body will remember what you've practiced and perfected when called upon to do so. You don't have to vacillate over them.

Stop thinking about what to do. Remember? Too much mind!

Get on the floor, TRUST yourself. Let go of all your apprehensions. Let go of figuring out your steps. Let go of thinking of whose watching. Let go of your repertoire. Listen to the music, lead your partner well.

Let go and let it happen. You'd be surprised.

What tango is to me

2009-07-04T11:29:00.000-07:00

"Why do I tango?" Is a question I've asked myself many times.

I remember the first time I wanted to take up dancing was the late 70's. My parents (after all) were once folk dancers—That's how they met. I wanted to join my university's dance troupe. It didn't materialize because I was lazy. Also, I thought that dancing was less than manly. I thought school work was too much as it was and extra curricular activities would detract from my studies. My goal was to finish school, get a really good job and get rich... Period.

Fast forward three plus decades...

In the pursuit of my professional career, dancing never even came to mind. Trying to figure out what I wanted to do when I grew up took a few years, and quite a few transformations and life changes. I've been to exotic places, and have mingled with exotic peoples. I've lived my life's adventures and my fantasies many, many times over. I got (mostly) what I wished for.

Having fared well through a drastic change in profession, I find myself in a radically different world—A civilian world.

Discovering a new world

Its amazing how a whole new world can be so close. So close that you are astonished to find that you actually live in it and not even know it.

Tango as a gateway and tour guide

Upon taking up tango, the simple act of finding one's way to and from milongas was an adventure. Finding restaurants, shops, and sundry places of interest along the way was an eye opening experience. It way like filling-in the places on bank map. I have discovered more of Seattle pursuing tango, than any other search expedition before it. It has built a holistic and rich view of the world around me.

Tango as a social networking mechanism

My best and favorite people in my life have been met through classes at first, then through milongas. These evolved into networks of tango-centric parties, identification and alignment of interests, histories, stories. It became a life enriching experience. These are friends not bonded together by politics, nor money, nor alliances, nor business. We are just friends because we are—Thanks to tango.

Tango as boost to self esteem

Outside of the drudgery of one's job, Tango is something (I think) I can do well, share, and believe in. It's something I enjoy, and am happy to do. The tango world, albeit fleeting, is a place where I can be, a "Somebody."

Tango as a reason to be healthy

The close contact inherent in tango forced me to reexamine my health. It has helped me quit smoking and modify and balance my diet as I don't want to stink. I've worked out regularly, to build strength and endurance. I find that I now stand up straighter. It has been one of the best motivational factors for improving ones health.

So far, the preceding are major points of what tango is to me. I find that the more I go, the more I know. Thus, the more I grow. It is a continuous adventure in learning and discovery.

Things I like to lead in tango and why

2009-06-30T23:15:00.000-07:00

During a recent post-milonga late night dinner with some friends, the lively topics went from comparisons of our world travels, adventures, and the best places to eat in Asia at 2 AM when you're drunk.

Inevitably, the conversation went to tango. The ladies discussed what they enjoyed as followers and why. That conversation inspired this post.

Walking

I like walking. Tango is after all, based on the walk. I have spent many an hour, in and out of milongas trying to get this right. My folly when I first began was to go with the mistaken notion that the road to good tango was paved with fancy steps. I was wrong.

My tango has gone through some major overhauls with slight modifications of the walk.

Phrasing my dance to the "Haaawoomp!"

One of my biggest challenges when I started dancing tango was interpreting tango music. As fortune would have it, Luciana Valle's was doing workshops in Seattle. Mrs. Ampster and I attended.

One of the biggest things I learned from her was the "Haaawoomp!" What she said was, listen to the tango music. Regardless of who was playing, if it was danceable music, the band will phrase it so that every 8 counts (or so), they would give a bang—a Haaawoomp! 1--2--3--4--5--6--7--8--Haaawoomp! In between the counts, one could embellish, double, triple step, all depending on the mood. For as long as your able to hit the Haaawoomp, you'll be OK.

It wasn't a perfect rule. It was more like a guideline. It did however, help me a lot in understanding how to interpret tango music. Which in turn, allowed me to learn enough for me to dance "In tune."

Thinking into the follower's feet

I feel that I have transcended from thinking about "What I'm doing," to thinking "What I want to happen." I see in my minds eye what needs to happen with the music. I lead it, then for some mystical machination of tango voodoo, her feet do what needed to happen... Magic!

Ochos for her and for me

Everyone does back ochos. I like doing forward ones. It gives her an opportunity to go forward for a change, and I can do my serpentine walks. (see below)

Leading backwards

I use giros and forward ochos to set up something I really like doing—Leading backwards. That is, I walk backwards and she walks forwards in syncopated rhythm. I think its cool.

Before I do this, I normally spot the space ahead of me several times to see if its clear. If there is anyone dancing erratically, or, if there are some non-line of dance cognizant people waiting to just cut into the line, I'll pass for a better opportunity later.

Giros and Ocho cortados

I like these because their a nice way of occupying time elegantly if space to move forward is curtailed.

Variations in timing and delivery

I try to keep my repertoire as simple as possible, and as small as possible. I don't rely on big flashy steps, patterns or figures. I vary the way I deliver my repertoire, based on the music. I lead an ocho fast, slow, in stages, in hesitations, in chops, to the dictates of the music... Its just an ocho, but it develops its own character based on the variation of delivery

Hobby for the old and broken

2009-06-17T22:47:00.000-07:00

1999 marked the end of an old century. It also marked a major turning point in my life. Due to several debilitating injuries, I could no longer serve in my beloved military. I was broken. No longer could I do feats of special stuff. No longer would I be able to handle specialized equipment that only a privileged few would ever know. No longer could I go on exotic adventures to far away places while keeping the homeland safe.

I became old before my time, and broken.

A new beginning...

All of my colorful past (and career) came to an abrupt end. I was at a loss. Loss of profession, loss of a life that I was so proud to be a part of. Loss of an identity. I literally had to remake myself from scratch.

Almost a year later, I had started a new career. There were lots of potential. With a lot of work, perseverance, and a clear view of what I wanted to achieve, I had once again found my niche.

Hobbies...

All work and no play does indeed make one dull—and grim. After finding my professional self, I found that I didn't have a life. It was all work, work, and work. I was too serious, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Ampster.

I had developed hobbies to balance off my job. I was a martial artist once. Tried it, and didn't last very long as this thing called pain reminded me of my condition. I was a scale model builder, but didn't have the space, nor the place to display my finished works. I got back into playing video games. My butt got bigger as couch potato-ism insidiously crept in. I was once an armorer and took that up as a hobby. Fun, but prohibitively expensive at times. Can't sustain that all the time. I rode my motorcycle a lot. THAT was fun!

Just for me, me, and me...

In all of the hobbies I partook in and tried, one fact became obvious to myself. It was all, just for me, and all about me. My hobbies were just mine. In my search for me, I had left Mrs. Ampster out of the picture. This wasn't right. I wanted to do something with her. Something she would enjoy as much as I did. I did not want her to get into a hobby just to accommodate me. It would have been noble of her, but I want something for us.

Behold, ballroom...

I discovered this thing called a dvd rental store. Being a huge broadway fan, my wife and I enjoyed watching videos of musical theater. One day, I rented "Shall We Dance?" Great! I had to see the original Japanese version, "Shall we dansu? This was followed by "Strictly Ballroom." I was on to something. I watched more dance shows, read a lot about dance. I woke up one day, and I asked Mrs. Ampster, "Honey, want to take ballroom lessons with me?" Guess what her answer was...

We did our ballroom thing and one dance stood out—The tango. We were specialists. Then we saw Forever Tango. As it turns out, Ballroom tango is very, very, very different from Argentine tango. What we were proficient at, was not the dance we wanted. We had wasted so much time. Besides, the competitive ballroom world is a crazy world which neither of us wanted to be in. We had to move on.

Tango...

We took up Argentine tango in Seattle. We got started. Took lessons, went to milongas, and figured it out. We got proficient. We had the same teachers and developed different flavors of tango. Bizarre, but, works great together. It's as if we learned from different teachers... But I digress.

On a more personal note, I've found something I can be good at. An art form that I have a distinctive signature in. Its a vernacular that I feel special knowing. Its something that I can make people happy with, one partner at a time. Its a hobby that doesn't involve danger, combat, serious physical injury, pain, trauma, nor booming things.

I've found something to do that totally makes up for being old and broken. Most of all, its a hobby I can share with my beloved Mrs. Ampster.

Getting off my tango motorcycle

2009-06-12T00:20:00.000-07:00

Seattle, WA is a beautiful, small, yet sophisticated city with the best of most everything.

Its tango community emulates that model and has been blessed with dedicated tango people who have established several new milongas this last year. You can literally go to a practica, or a milonga every day of the week.

I had lots of choices, and I availed of the opportunity whenever I could. Eventually, even a good thing can be too much. My beloved Mrs. Ampster got a little burned out and took a tango sabbatical. That's a good thing as everyone needs to hit the reset button every once in a while. Myself on the other hand, had a different effect...

Splitting the population

Seattle is a hotbed of fanatical, dedicated, and beautiful tango dancers, both milonguero and nuevo alike. However, it has an Achilles heel—The population is not particularly big. Considering that it really takes time to develop good tango dancers, quality growth of the community can be slow.

With this scenario, the laws of supply and demand take over. You have the Seattle tango people diversifying the milongas they go to, thus splitting the population. On one hand, it gives impetus for the community to build and mentor new tango dancers to keep everything going. On the other, without any community growth, some milongas will have to fold. Only time will tell.

Getting off the motorcycle

The effect on myself by this conundrum is that I suddenly find my regular partners missing. In the past, I literally would dance almost every tanda for the duration of the milonga—There are so many friends to dance with. With the splitting of the population, regular partner numbers are diminished. However, it is not particularly a bad thing as I also see new faces. I explore new partners regardless of skill level. It's a great exercise in diversification.

I tried to diversify with my newly found tango friends at my usual pace. It was like riding a motorcycle at speed through mountain passes. There was so much going on all at once, while trying to be smooth and not crash. It's intense. It's furious. It went on for the duration of the tanda—For a few months.

I got tired eventually, and decided to get off my tango motorcycle for a while. I didn't dance as much as I did. The experience was like getting off my motorcycle and enjoy walking through the mountain meadow to enjoy the breeze and the flowers. Things were no longer passing by at a high speed blur.

Appreciating the tango of others

I sit and watch the dancers that pass in front of me. I scrutinize their embrace. I watch as she closes her eyes, feeling the warmth of the embrace and sensing the lead. They move fluidly. They move beautifully. I see some leads do things that are so simple, yet magnificent. I see women extend their legs in long elegant lines as they walk back. I see some women's hand raise as a gesture of feeling the music and the dance.

I watch leaders move in syncopated rhythm. I watch them cast the tango spell on their willing partners. I see different placements for the leaders left arm. Some high, some head level, some low. One even did the scorpion looking high looped arm thing—bizarre. All worked for their purpose and style.

In one tanda, I even saw my own tango development... All at once. There were dancers that represented my own tango evolution.

There were awkward beginners trying out their newly memorized steps–I was once one of them. There was the guy who who tries to teach a hapless newbie and block traffic in the fast lane–I was once this loathsome creature. There was the flashy nuevo guy who tried to do all his fancy stuff–Me at one time. There was the salonisti who danced in a "V" embrace and the milonguero who danced squarely in full contact with their partner–I too have gone these routes. Fascinating!

Its nice getting off my tango motorcycle and savoring the sights of the milonga for a change. Someday, I'll ride at full speed again—maybe.

P.S. That's really me on my motorcycle

Dialing in...

2009-05-21T22:59:00.000-07:00

"Dialing in" An old military term used to denote changing one's settings to adapt to unique and shifting environments enabling one to hit the target.

One of THE most difficult things I have ever had to learn to do in tango is to "Dial in" my partner. It was an excruciating exercise in patience and adaptation. I pushed through that because of my target... A good tanda, and my tango partner's joy.

Nothing but steps...

When I began learning tango, I was under the impression that it was all about steps and figures. A common beginner's mistake. I had to be able to do a gancho, a sacada, a giro, a molinete, etc, etc, etc. I also expected that my partners would also know a gancho, a sacada, a giro, a molinete, etc, etc, etc.

I studied long and hard, and eventually I could perform my steps and figures well. I thought I had it. I honestly thought (at the time) that if I collected enough good step patterns, I would be fine. I took to the milonga floor and imposed... No, INFLICTED this on unsuspecting partners. In my zeal to perfect my steps, I sometimes ended up teaching them to my partner... my sincerest apologies. I did not realize (then), that this was rude in tango.

Starting to lead...

There was an event that made me realize my step collecting folly. My first teacher and I were watching someone someone on the dance floor. He could barely dance, and he was trying to teach a hapless beginner steps. It looked bad, very bad. My teacher told me,

"Look at J... It just upsets me when someone tries to teach something he can't even do himself."

My head blew up after hearing this, thinking—I was just like that! Ewe! I need to figure things out. My epiphany was this: I told myself that steps are fine, ONLY if I could lead them well. If I can't, I won't.

I learned to lead. I learned to dance with simplicity. I was on my way down a new path. Much to my amazement, making the decision was the easy part.

Leading is not easy. Women dance differently...

Learning to lead was not the defining moment in my tango. It was the beginning of many, many, many headaches to come.

The source of my consternation... Women dance differently—Each and everyone of them! Gaaaah! I discovered that having learned how to lead, I only knew how to lead ONE way. My style of leading only worked for one type of follow. That made one out of ten dances good. The rest, I would not even call good. I had to figure something out if I wanted to have decent dances.

Lessons from the past: Dialing in...

Being an old and broken veteran, it was once my job to hit distant targets under varying environmental and atmospheric conditions. In order to compensate for variances, I was trained in the very mental exercise of "Dialing in."

You become aware of your environment and the elements around you and your objective. You know your strengths, capabilities, and limitations. You make your assessments and compensate by (literally) "Dialing in" to adjust your settings. Done right, your target is easily achieved. Done improperly (or ineptly), you waste a good opportunity.

Becoming aware, tweaking the dials...

When the dance starts, we go into an embrace—the abrazo. I feel my partner's breathing rhythm. I feel her level of tension, or relaxation. Where does she hold her weight?

I immerse myself in the music. I feel it. I feel her. I move off, one foot... then the next. I feel her move with me. The dialing in begins.

Does she go long, or go short? Do her steps feel choppy or smooth? Does she feel heavy or light? Does she follow what's led, or does she misread the lead?

Whatever she does, I adapt, and dial in my settings for my lead to match her level of follow. That way, regardless of what and how she follows, by dialing in, I can try to make everything flow into that magic called tango.

Seattle's (finest) tango bloggers

2009-05-17T13:40:00.000-07:00

left to right: AmpsterTango, Tina Tangos, Working Artist

On the evening of May 16, 2009, we had a small party. On hand were dear friends, good food, good wine, and a little dancing.

The air was permeated by a bond of friendship and love that was created by this beautiful this thing called, "Tango."

With my sincerest apologies...

2009-05-08T00:44:00.000-07:00

Knowing what I know now in tango, I would like to address a few things to a few ladies. I hope that after this, someone will still want to tango with me...

To the lady whom I stepped on, kicked, and knocked knees with,

I apologize. When I was starting out, I didn't and couldn't lead with the right posture, nor with the right walk. I've since corrected those errors and I hope to dance with you again sometime.

To the lady whom I nearly squeezed to death,

I apologize. At the time, I didn't know the difference between a tango embrace—The abrazo, and a Jiujitsu submission hold. I know better now, and when we dance again, I promise to envelop you in a warm loving embrace, and not a bear hug.

To the lady whom I left breathless in less than a tanda,

I apologize. As a beginner, I was impatient, and thought everyone was slow. I was wrong. The next time we dance, I'll dance to the speed of the crowd in harmonious syncopation with you. I promise to not bulldoze right through you.

To the lady whom I led with my flailing arms,

I apologize. I didn't know how to lead yet, so I used your right arm like a boat rudder. I know how to lead now, so when we dance again, I'll present my hand for you to rest yours on. I promise not to wrench it out from its socket.

To the lady whom I bounced around the floor with,

I apologize. It was a remnant of my ballroom days. Rise and fall was the norm. I'm learning to be smooth and walk like I'm on rollers. Next time we dance, I'll try to make it as smooth as possible, and not make you sea-sick from all that bobbing up and down.

To the lady whom I led with a very tentative lead,

I apologize. Starting out, I really didn't know what to do. I assumed that if I give a signal, you'd do a boleo, or a gancho, or a giro, or a molinete... I didn't know that I was supposed to move you—lead you. I think I've it figured out now, so next time, you don't need to guess what I'm trying to do, because you'll be able to feel my lead.

To the lady I tried to teach on the dance floor,

I apologize. I was new. I tried to hide my incompetence by looking smart and teaching you a step that I myself could not lead. It must have been embarrassing or humiliating. In any case, it's not good. I know better now, and when we meet again on the dance floor, things will just happen.

To the lady I heaved around like a sack of potatoes,

I apologize. I confused finesse with brute force. I've since learned to transmit my motion through you very subtly and clearly. As we meet again, we will flow like water.

To the lady I danced with out of tune,

I apologize. At the time interpreting music was not my forté... Ok, I had no clue. I thought that as long as I could do the steps, I'd be fine. I have since learned to read the music, syncopate, dance on time and with rhythm. When we meet, I may not be fancy, but I'll be in tune.

To any one else I have forgotten... I'm sure I have perpetrated a lot more tango malfeasance than what I even remember and/or know... I say to you, "I apologize."

To make amends, I shall do my all to make our next tango experience, a beautiful one.

P.S. I don't stink. So, I won't be apologizing for that. ;-)

Beautiful at any level

2009-04-29T01:14:00.000-07:00

One of my most inspirational tango moments happened to me a few years ago. It was for me, a defining moment...

The elderly lady...

At the time, I did not consider myself good a dancer. But, then again, I wasn't a raw beginner either. I was at my usual milonga and It was still early so attendance was light. I danced as best I could while trying to figure out how to improve my leading skills. Dancing with different partners was my strategy before the good dancers came. It was fun and I think I was starting to really understand this "leading" thing.

The night wore on and the milonga was now full of wonderful dancers. Sitting across the room was a very dignified looking elderly lady intently watching the floor with a look of awe. I wondered who she was, as I had never seen her before... I kept dancing.

A few tandas had passed, and decided to take a break and sit out the current tanda (it was a milonga and I was horrible). I noticed the very dignified elderly lady once again. She seemed happy with a wispy smile on her face as she watched. The cortina came. Deciding to take the chance and ask her to dance, I stood up. I stared her way as I was trying to make a cabecéo. No luck. Doing it the old fashioned way, I walked up to her and asked. She smiled and accepted.

The tanda...

I stood up straight, waiting for her. She approached and I offered my left hand. She took it with grace. I opened my right arm, inviting her for an embrace. She accepted, and settled in. My right arm rested across her back. She nestled her cheek on mine and we settled into a comfortable close embrace, safe and warm.

I listened to the music as the strains of the bandoneon permeated the air. I relaxed, took a breath, then moved. She moved with me, albeit a tad awkwardly. I could tell that she had a dance background (perhaps ballroom) but not Argentine tango (at least, not yet).

I tried to lead a back ocho, and she does a rearward fan. I tried to lead a front ocho, then suddenly four perfect latin/rhythm forward fans in succession... Yup! Ballroom. I went with it, letting her finish, then led something as best I could to make it look and feel seamless. Her posture was a bit off with a tendency to lean backwards a bit with squared shoulders (definitely ballroom). I compensated by keeping it simple enough that flow and syncopation could be maintained even if the following was not stellar. The tanda continued, and it worked. What was important to me was that the connection was great, and it was.

Dialing in...

*An old military technique (sic): To change your settings to compensate for the current situation*

I had to "dial her in." She had the spirit, the heart, the connection, but not necessarily the technique... at least, not tango technique. It was an exercise in reaction and adaptation. I led and she answered—not quite the answer I was looking for, but no matter. I reacted to make it flow and adapted so that it all blends into one motion after motion. So what if some of what she was doing wasn't a tango? Tango is about how it feels and I tried to make it feel good.

The end of the tanda...

I thanked my lady friend, and escorted her to her bench. I apologized for the flubs I did. She turned to me and smiled. She said "Thank you," and took her leave.

I really did make a few mistakes, and I tried to correct them as smoothly as I could. I let it go, and chalked it up as a learning experience. I made my way to the water fountain. I thirst.

Beautiful...

The water fountain was by the exit door. I took a couple of cups and filled them with water. It was a warm night and I stepped outside for some fresh air.

I sipped my water, savoring its coolness. It was a pleasant contrast to the warm night air. I stared blankly at the road and watched the passing cars to the tango tunes of the milonga.

Feeling a gentle tap on my shoulder, I turned and discovered my elderly lady friend smiling at me. She said,

"Thank you. You were my best dance of the evening and I can go home now."

I smiled and nodded in gratitude. She turned and started walking away. After a few steps, she turned to me and said...

"You made me feel beautiful this evening."

She smiled. Then, turned away, went down the stairs to her car and drove off. Rounding the corner, I watched her disappear.

To my dear elderly lady friend, whom I had never seen before, nor since...

You made me feel a heartfelt warmth that evening. My soul soared at the thought that I made someone happy. Because of you, my sweet lady, I have promised myself that from then on, I will make every effort for any and all my tango partners (regardless of skill level) to feel beautiful.

Thank you.

The intricacy of simplicity

2009-04-08T22:01:00.000-07:00

In my post entitled, "Meanderings through tango music," I talked about my transition of musical preferences from nuevo style tango music to traditional tango renditions. Along with that change in taste in music, came a change in my dance style. The evolution of my tango style went from preferring dancing in open embrace to eventually concentrating on the close embrace exclusively.

This is a narrative of that journey...

The first lessons...

Coming from a ballroom background, I was comfortable with a tango open embrace. A ballroom close embrace is an open embrace in tango. That was an easy enough adaptation. Overlay that with the 8-count basic, and step variations, I thought I was golden. Little did I know that this was just my (Sony Newman) teacher's way of easing students in.

It got complicated really fast. Along with the steps, my teacher incorporated basic balancing and walking exercises that were in reality, exercises in technique —I ignored them thinking that they were only there to occupy time. He was a perfectionist. At 75 (at the time) , he was quite feisty. His lessons frustrated me and made my brain ache.

I eventually caught up with the learning curve and became proficient in open embrace tango (so I thought). I could do fancy stuff like leading over-extended front ochos, boleos, sacadas, calecitas, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

I had a large répertoire of steps. I was ready to go to a milonga!

The first milongas...

Like many an arrogant newbie before me, I made a very painful and humbling self-discovery... A good student in tango class, does not a good tango dancer make. I knew all the steps, but I had the wrong frame of mind. I had the show dancer mentality. I was dancing for the adulation of the audience.

Up until then, I never really appreciated the music. I needed percussion, so I looked for nuevo music. That being said, the result was that I danced out of tune—My musicality sucked. Knowing this, I tried to get better, and struggled through the frustration and ill-perceived embarrassment. This was turning into a serious trampling to one's ego. In any case, I still loved it so much that I kept going.

I got incrementally better. I got smoother and smarter. I got more coordinated and less klutzy. Things were starting to come along. I was comfortable.

One night, my wife and I decided to investigate a different milonga and a funny thing happened that night. I asked a lady to dance and she was gracious enough to oblige me. Much to my surprise, her arm went all the way around my shoulder... Oh my! *GASP* I was enveloped in a close embrace!

I didn't know what to do and tried to control my panic and keep my composure. I couldn't move and my "stuff" was not going to work—No space. I walked the tanda and my poor partner suffered through my gawkiness.

So much for being ready. I sat out the night and watched. It turns out that the tango place we went to was a predominantly milonguero place. I saw dancers like these on my tango videos... The people I fast forwarded through because I thought they were boring.

My perspectives had suddenly and abruptly changed. I was terrified, but found it nice at the same time.

A new outlook about the tango embrace...

I told my teacher about my close embrace experience–He chuckled and explained that now, I was ready to try close embrace. I asked why he didn't teach that in the first place?

He wanted his students to experience the whole gamut of tango. His theory was that if one can dance in the open, then, one can dance in close. Simply reduce the size of what was taught, to an eighth of what it was. The tricky part is to now lead with only one's core and nothing more. He continues that once one is able to find the right mix of comfort level + expertise, one gravitates to only a few basic steps to do really, really well and just revisit the rest when the right partner comes along.

According to him, when I get to this point, is about the time I would realize that I don't need to take classes from him anymore. He smiled. He was right. I took it to heart, and eventually became acceptably competent tango dancer.

A very visceral connection...

The main difference between dancing open and close embrace was the level of connection. Dancing in the open was fun, fancy, and vigorous. Dancing in close embrace was intimate, internal, and a very visceral experience.

IMHE, when I was dancing in the open, I was concentrating on cool moves and leading them well. I was, a bit self absorbed, and I did it (really) to look good.

When I concentrated on dancing in close embrace, a different kind of magic happens. I am now dancing FOR my partner. She is the only one that matters during the tanda, I dance for her. It's all about her.

This was the one feeling I found to be so delightful. I knew I was doing a good thing because every now and then, I made someone truly happy, even for but a fleeting moment of a tanda. Every now and then, I could make the magic work.

Looks can be deceiving...

When I began tango a few years ago, I contrasted the two dichotomies. I reveled at the cool nuevo generation of tangueros. I thought the stuff that they did was marvelous. On the other hand, I glazed over the viejo. I thought they were slow, boring, and geriatric. What they did looked boring because they were just walking. "Anyone can do that," I said to myself.

When I experienced and learned close embrace, I realized that my previous opinion was so wrong. It is actually harder (for me) to dance close embrace because it is internal. It's all about the way it felt and not the way it looked. It requires more concentration. It requires more tuning into your partner. Leading used subtle muscular impulses, and used the whole body to transmit your lead messages to one's partner, almost like dance osmosis. Bizarre, beautiful.

The old cliché "looks can be deceiving," applies. When one dances in close embrace, there is so much going on between the partners. Only the acutely trained can see this interaction. It is in essence, a private conversation expressed in dance, using the tango dialect.

All of these complexities and nuances interact to produce an art form so intricate, yet so beautifully simple.

My meanderings through tango music

2009-03-25T11:56:00.000-07:00

My appreciation for tango music went through a long evolutionary process. My first preference was nuevo style music. Fast forward few years to where I am now, I listen to none but traditional tango music. Here's how that metamorphosis went...

In the beginning...
My wife and I were at one time, avid ballroom dancers and were poised to enter the competitive ballroom scene. As fate would have it, we did not bow to that madness (that's another story). We discovered tango and it became our specialty. We didn't know (at the time) that there were different types of tango! In any case, we (finally) discovered Argentine Tango and never looked back.

My view of tango music was shaped by American Ballroom Tango. The premise—In order for one to dance well, one needs to follow the beat. In ballroom tango, the musical arrangements are written to pound this into a distinctive 4/4 time march-like cadence.

Ballroom tango music

First exposure to "real" Argentine tango music...
Crossing over from ballroom, my only "real" knowledge of tango music came from the (2004) movie "Shall we dance," a remake of the original 1996 Japanese movie of the same title.
My first idea of "real" tango music (Gotan Project)

My brain was filled with a load of assumptions and presumptions on how this dance should be. I was under the misguided belief of transposing my previous dance experience and apply it to tango. I thought that this was the fastest way to be good at tango. It was (in hind sight) quite arrogant of me.

I was looking for music that had a constant, discernible, and structured beat. I was looking for music like salsa, or cha-cha. I assumed that, since Argentina was in latin America, ergo, it should be like any other latin rhythm—right? I wanted music that when you just listened to the beat, you knew what it was, and you knew what step to pick and use. Music that didn't change rhythm... just like ballroom, salsa, and cha-cha.

First frenzy...
I discovered Gotan project. Hey, it's tango music. Good enough to be in a movie I liked, its good enough for me. I get this kind of music. Good beat, modern, sleek, cool. I spent time collecting music from Otros Aires, Narcotango, Gotan Project, Bajofondo Tango Club... All the "cool" stuff. I started collecting CITA DVD's. Gotta watch the nuevo masters. I liked the moves. I was impressed and wanted to do them... Just like ballroom. It was all about the flashy-cool moves.

At this point in time, I DID NOT KNOW HOW TO DANCE Argentine tango, yet. I just thought I could do anything. I was still in "research" mode, and basing my assumptions on what I knew.

Beginning tango lessons, a rude awakening...

I enrolled with my first real Argentine tango teacher. He was very good (as a first teacher). He was very strict. He showed my technical inadequacies in no uncertain terms. The music he used used to teach his class... Old scratchy pre-World War II sounding stuff. I couldn't stand it! Why, oh why did this old man insist on his old music? Nostalgia? Ugh!

It was bad enough that my brain ached after the class trying to learn this tango thing. It didn't help that my ego got trampled every single time. All of this while the horrible old scratchy music grated at me constantly. I didn't get this music. Why didn't they use a drum? Why did it change rhythm and tempo several times in one song. It was confusing to me. I couldn't read it. Oh, did I mention it was scratchy?

A funny thing happened. I learned how to dance tango...

I had to unlearn everything I knew. I started re-learning with an open mind. Working through my frustrations, I patiently persisted. After about a year or so, my teacher told me that in the end, despite all the steps that he taught, I had to make the dance, my own. Take what he taught, string them together and make it into something distinctly mine. He said, "When you can make it flow WITH A PARTNER, regardless of how good or bad she is and make it an experience, then you know you can tango."

This resounded in my brain like a cathedral bell. The connection, the syncopated motion combined in a magical way. Suddenly, the intricacy of the old, traditional music became meaningful. I got it—I GOT IT!

The nuevo style stuff was now BORING! It did not have the character of the traditional music. It might as well be salsa or cha-cha. If you sat there and just listened, a whole evening would go by and there would be one steady cadence... It limited my musicality to the song, because I found that you were tied to a consistent rhythm.

With the traditional music, you danced to the down beat of the melody. I slowed when it slowed, I sped up when it sped up. Hesitations and pauses became intrinsic parts of my dance. I danced with the music and not to the music. It has become a zen-like experience with a partner. It's always a new experience—every time.

And so, for the last few years, my iPod and my music listening has since been dominated by traditional tango music. Of course, I still listen to nuevo stuff... But I don't dance to it anymore.

Juan D' Arienzo

patience, Patience... PATIENCE!

2009-03-22T17:46:00.000-07:00

Tango has taught me something in life... it is the virtue of patience.

Most of my life, I've indulged in endeavors that required action—Immediate, decisive, resolute, and brutally efficient methods that resulted in speedy results. Often have I taken the rational, scientific, and analytical route to get to the most optimal results in the shortest amount of time. I've broken things into steps and bullet points. This makes things understandable, organized, and easily doable.

When I first started tango, I thought I could do the ballroom thing and memorize moves and deliver them with precision. I wanted to do a lot right away. I wanted to be able to take the floor and impress. I wanted to be the best tanguero. I wanted to be like Salas, Frumboli, and dance Nuevo style and do the flashy stuff, sooner. I thought nuevo music was cooler—it sounded new and had a beat. I thought the older tangueros were boring—Geriatric. I was ready, I was willing, I was good-to-go! Now, now, now!

Fast forward a few years...

Not so for tango. The fast-track thing does not work. I have found no shortcuts. My learning of tango has become a long, frustrating, exasperating, but ultimately rewarding esoteric experience.

It is one of the few things in life that I've found worthy of truly making an investment of time, effort, and understanding to become good at. Tango is not a science. It is an art. It is the marriage of fluid movement with passion applied to beautiful and distinctive music called tango.

When I tried to expedite my tango learning, it felt life-less. When I memorized precise movement and delivery, it felt mechanical. When I scrutinized and analyzed traditional tango music, it just felt old. I went through analysis-paralysis. I wasn't getting anywhere.

I decided to just let go, assimilate and just learn and grow. That worked. I willingly went through a cycle of learning and just let things happen. I went in, and let go of any presumptions. I started my learning process as a total beginner. Then, and ONLY then, did I notice any significant progress.

Of all the things that I have done in my life, tango is one that has required a lot of patience. But, its return in the form of life enrichment has made it more than worth it.

Patience (in tango) pays.

Over-analyzers and step collectors >:(

2009-03-19T20:45:00.000-07:00

I've recently had close encounters with two types of (pseudo) tango dancers with two qualities that just irritate me:

Over-analyzers
Step collectors

The over-analyzers

These are the people that cannot stop themselves from scrutinizing, criticizing, and over-ANALyzing everything that everyone does. Too much lean, foot placement wrong, can't dance anything but milonguero, embrace is wrong, head too low, head too high, back not straight enough, blah-blah, blah-blah, blah-blah... They zoom in on the smallest of nuances, and loose sight of the big holistic picture of the dance. On they go and profess to tell you what is right, and how it should be. However, when you see them take the floor, they are some of the worse tango dancers around. They make my brain ache.

The step collectors

These are the people who try—TRY, to do all the fancy, funky stuff. Does it work for them? Nope. Can they lead what they're trying to do? Nope. These failings do not deter them. In their minds, they're right and their partner can't follow. They still insist on doing their flashy stuff, much to the woe of their partners (victims). They can't improvise, syncopate, nor navigate. They go under the assumption that in order to be good you have to know steps—Lots of them!

Some things these peeps have in common

They criticize a lot
They just started tango
They've been taking lessons forever but don't go to milongas
They never really learned to dance well—glazed over the basics
Lack of the fundamental tango skill of walking
They are unpleasant to dance with
They are unpleasant to watch
Hazards on the floor
They don't realize how bad they are

You'll know them when you see and/or hear them. I'm sure we all know of at least one.

Ok, I'm done ranting... Apologies

Tango posture— A new epiphany

2009-03-15T13:19:00.000-07:00

My problem

One of the biggest improvements I've made to my tango is improving my posture.

When I first started, no one ever taught me about the mechanics of what a good tango posture should be. I just basically winged it and made do. I thought I was doing pretty well until I found out for myself (ego aside), how wrong I was.

As it turns out, I was doing more of a tango judo hold, than a loving tango embrace. Head forward, shoulders high and circled, chest caved, arms around my opponent, preparing for a strike. I was ready to rumble!

It was my wife, and photographic evidence that showed me the error of my ways. I made an effort to correct it. Again, with no formal instruction behind it. Just a lot of criticism, and anecdotal comments.

My "Posture" epiphany

Along comes Muma to Seattle (about a year ago). I had a posture epiphany! Her workshop was all about, technique, technique, and technique. She was mild mannered, spoke hardly any English, but had a very eloquent teaching partner/interpreter, and masterful in her art.

In one lesson, she gave us an exercise that changed how I danced, and made a great deal of difference in my leading (and following skills for the ladies).

Muma's Posture exercise

For both leads and follows:

Stand up straight. Shoulders back and level
Hold your arms above your head. Like you were surrendering
Observe where, and how high your rib cage goes. This is how high and how far out your chest should be held
Lower your arms to your side, while keep your chest where it's at
Bend your knees slightly. Enough to unlock them
Move your upper whole upper body forward until your weight shifts from your heels to the balls of your feet
When you move forward, the lead caresses the floor with his toes, then lands the heel (toe lead)
The follow rolls on the balls of her foot to extend, roll, land, extend roll, land

That's how the tango posture should look like. The difference is that, the leads walk forward, and the follows walk backward. Adopting this posture, puts both of you in the milonguero stance that resembles the letter "A." Beautiful and functional. This allows the leader's feet to move forward, without bumping knees. It looks like the both of you are leaning against each other. It's an illusion. Both of you are keeping your own balance above the balls of the feet. Each movement is then done with exceptional grace and elegance. This is what I try to deliver consistently.

*Note: This is so much easier to write about, than it is to actually do, and dance to. With enough practice, I'll get there.

Make your partner feel safe, smart, and loved

2009-03-10T15:49:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine told me about friends of her who know how to lead some great and whacky stuff. But, she would much rather feel safe.

Another friend of mine pointed my attention to someone who would lecture their partners with blow by blow commentaries. She confided that after dancing with this guy, she was almost in tears.

Another friend of mine was telling me about several leads who danced technically great, but were "Cold," making the experience, less than memorable.

As I listen to my friends, (in retrospect) I sometimes have to tell myself that at one time or another, I was also guilty of these infractions of tango lead insensitivity. Since then, I have morphed my methods into something that I try to give my follows every time I dance.

One friend of mine said to me so eloquently, what her teacher once told her: "Make your partner feel safe, smart, and loved." I could not agree more.

This is my interpretation of things:

A. Make your partner feel safe

Don't knock your partner off her axis. This will cause her distraction, breaking her connection
Don't use her for a battering ram. She will not appreciate running into chairs, tables, and other people. Not to mention being kicked, stabbed, and stepped on
Dance at her pace. As a lead, you should be able to feel her level of following skills. Once you've got that read, dance at her level (no matter how good you think you are)
Do flow your energy through her and glide over the floor
Do make her feel protected and safe in your company

B. Make her feel smart

Don't pull your fancy steps on her unless you know that you can lead them well. Doing big loud fancy stuff will cause her to think about the steps... NOT about the connection
Keep it simple. Let her flow with you and the music. It becomes a cerebral experience
If you lead something and it doesn't work, give it up and try something else. No one is perfect, and not everyone can follow everything all the time
Flubs happen... get over it and move along
Don't, don't— DO NOT LECTURE on the floor, unless feedback is asked for (or if you're in a practica)
No blow-by-blow commentaries to your partner while you're dancing

C. Make her feel loved

The embrace in tango, is an embrace. It's not a (ballroom) open hold, nor a closed hold, nor a broad framed waltz pose. It is an embrace. The person you are dancing with at the time is special, and your embrace needs to reflect that.
Your embrace should be gentle, firm, but not creepy
Your embrace should be firm but not strangling, squeezing, or squishing
Your hand around her should roughly be in and around the area of her shoulder blade, and over your heart
Her shoulder blade should not be gripped and used as a steering wheel
Your left arm is there for her to hold. You should not use your left arm to steer her like a boat tiller
The height of your left hand should be in and around the level of her eye/nose
Lead with your center, not the arms
Make sure your embrace is sincere
The objective is to move to the strains of the bandoneon as one. One body four legs, swirling in that magic called tango

Combine A, B, and C to develop that magical tango connection. Remember, Tango: It's not about you. It's about HER

Beginner's anxiety... "People will notice me!"

2009-02-09T21:00:00.000-08:00

I went through this several years ago. My friends who are new to tango ask me about this. I hear beginners use it as an excuse all the time.

What am I talking about? Beginners who just sit and not dance. I agree that getting on the dance floor as a beginner is an intimidating experience. However, one needs to dance to get better. This is experience best learned progressively on the milonga floor, and not taking lessons forever.

The most common reason I hear why beginners don't venture forth?

"I'm a beginner... People will notice me!"

I've used it myself when I first started. My reason at the time was that, I did not want to be humiliated and embarrassed when people found out that I could only do walks. My advice is to get over it.

Yes, people will notice you—for the first 10 seconds! You, as a beginner, will become invisible quickly as it will be plainly obvious that you just started. People won't care unless you run into somebody, block traffic, kick or step on someone. So, keep it simple, be humble, and stay in the middle.

People watch good dancers intently. Not beginners.

Massaging the tango feet

2009-02-01T11:17:00.000-08:00

When one dances tango for hours and hours on end, the euphoria of the evening's dance is tempered by the ache of one's feet.

What my therapist advises is to massage your feet. This returns good circulation, soothes aches and pains, and prevents plantar fasciitis.

Tools needed

2 tennis balls
2 golf balls

The Ritual

Rest your feet well after dancing
Sit down, and get comfy
Lay your feet over two tennis balls (One under each foot). Put all of your leg's weight on them
In a slow and firm rolling motion, roll them underneath the balls of your feet, underneath your arches, underneath your heels, underneath your toes. Do this for 10 minutes
Shift to the golf balls, repeat # 4
Alternate the tennis balls and golf balls as needed
Rest your feet afterwards
Soak and luxuriate in a warm bath
Moisturize, exfoliate, and shave (take care of) callouses (as needed)

This can be done after running, a long walk, or any activity that beats up your feet. My long standing therapist (she's a magician) explained the mechanics of the method to me. I got a definitive explanation about stress injuries and relationships of inter-related areas of physical anatomy that I myself don't quite understand in full. But, It works for me. :-)

Tango: It's not about you. It's about HER

2009-01-22T00:44:00.000-08:00

A newbie to tango once asked me, what the secret to being a good tango dancer was.

My reply, "It's not about you. It's about HER." He gave me a quizzical look. I explained...

When you do your (other) dances, you try to look good to your partner and to the audience... right? He (sheepishly) agrees. To do this you do the flashy multiple under arm turns, cumbias, the clothes, etc... right? Once again, he agrees.

Well, in tango, (as you can see) you really don't do that stuff (we were in a milonga). You're dancing so close that you can't look at each other.

You're concentrating so much on leading that if you try to showboat, you mess up your leading, making your motion choppy, awkward, and out of tune.

You can do the flashy stuff, but look at how crowded the floor is. You're liable to crash into others, so try to avoid it. Rather, do it when you have space. Besides, if you can't do it well yourself, it's unlikely you'll be able to lead it. If you try to force or teach her, you're just making her miserable, embarrassed or both.

In your (other) dance, you can do all this bump and grind and spin stuff because you're in one place. Here, the crowd is a densely moving herd.

What is important to dancing tango is the connection. It's that feeling of being "One body, four legs." There are two of you but you move as one—Movement comes from you, ending with her.

She is the reason why you tango. If you lead her to dance well, she'll be happy. With that, she'll look good, and you will be remembered positively. Don't worry about the steps. They'll come with practice and patience. Worry about walking properly first.

The bottom line, make every effort to make it good for HER. She'll appreciate that and you'll be remembered. That's what makes a good tango dancer.

He looked at me strangely and said "Ok," and walks off (I guess he was expecting me to teach him the super secret tango step combo). I chuckle and finish out the rest of the night dancing.

The combination lock

2009-01-15T20:33:00.000-08:00

A combination lock only needs 3 numbers to make it work. Each 3 numbers come from the integers of 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Its the combination of these 3 numbers from the 10 integers that make each combination lock unique.

What does this have to do with tango, you may ask? Well, as a leader, this is a lesson I had to learn myself through trial and error.

You do not have to collect and memorize so many steps that you can't do yourself, let alone lead.

Rather, master at least three simple ones that you can do really well (e.g. the walk, an ocho, a giro). Do them right, make them look good. Then, like the combination lock, shuffle them around as the music dictates. Modify their delivery and speed with pauses and hesitations. Suddenly, your 3 can be delivered 10 different ways each. That makes 30 variations of steps you can use. Shuffle their delivery, of course, as the music dictates. That gives you 90 combinations all based on the original three.

Your partner, can read it because you lead it well. She'll enjoy and appreciate that. She won't get bored if you do the simple stuff well to the music, even if you're only using variations of 3 combinations.

You evolve from being a "step collector" to someone who dances tango dynamically. As you get better, progressively add another simple step, and repeat the process. If my math is right, I think the possible combinations based on three is 27,000... Can you imagine the possibilities?

A litany of tango epiphanies

2009-01-12T20:40:00.000-08:00

Epiphany iˈpifənē

• a moment of sudden revelation or insight

-–—===oooOOOooo===—–-

Being a lead in Tango is extremely difficult. You have to navigate, interpret the music, lead the movements, dance in tune with the music, know what your partner is doing, know what foot she's on, keep your balance, don't knock her off her axis, plan your timing, maintain your posture, make sure your embrace is just right, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera... ALL AT ONCE!

I like to think that I'm an OK lead who can hold my own on a milonga floor. How I got to my current level of dancing tango was not easy. My development was not linear nor steady. It wasn't like my ballroom dancing where you go through a regimented and measured program where one goes form Bronze 1, Bronze 2, Silver 1, Silver 2, and Gold levels.

My Tango path has been, and still is difficult. The very nature of Argentine Tango being driven by improvisation and musicality, while operating under strict conduct and parameters, stifles the linear learning method. It advocates a different approach to adult learning. The advantage of the tango paradigm is that the simplest of walks can be transformed into a beautiful art form filled with passion and meaning. If, done with the right intent, commitment, and execution.

My Tango development trend is a series of peaks and valleys. Long stretches of time that could be described as, "Great! This is good... What next?" Then, interspersed with sporadic events of angelic "AHA!" moments—Epiphanies!

When these epiphanies occur, they cause strides in my tango evolutionary development. Some came from trial and error, some I had to work at, some from semi-traumatic Tango experiences, some happened on their own, some I learned from watching, and a myriad of other odd circumstances.

A few of the articles I've written illustrate the epiphanies that I found were so poignant (to me) that I still remember, and can write about. I'm positive that as I move forward, I will have more and my litany of epiphanies will grow.

Litany of Tango Epiphanies:

A layman's guide to the different types of Tango

2009-01-06T01:39:00.000-08:00

Foreword
I was talking to Elizabeth at a recent party. She told me about her hairdresser who was perplexed on how one could be proficient at tango without having to dump thousands of dollars on lessons. Her hairdresser would also ask what "Costume" she wore when she went tango dancing. I told Elizabeth that she was talking about Ballroom Tango, and the practice of Ballroom schools that charge based on a linear progressive level (Bronze, Silver, Gold) system .

This is not an isolated question that non-dancers would ask. For instance, whenever the TV shows "Dancing With The Stars," and "So You Think You Can Dance" air, my friends would say, "I was thinking about you when they do Tango. Do you also wear those... 'Spandex latin shirts/coat tails/costumes' when you Tango?" I chuckle and politely explain that I dance Argentine Tango–not Ballroom Tango. They respond with a perplexed look, and I try to explain further.

Being a former ballroom dancer, and now, an exclusive practitioner of Argentine Tango, please allow me the opportunity to try to explain the differences between the two.

The following are my redactions from several historical references in my library, on-line, and my own 1st hand experiences.

Origins

ARGENTINE TANGO
The original Tango!
Born in the streets and bordellos of the late 19th and early 20th century Buenos Aires, Argentina. At first, a dance of illicit diversion participated in by the denizens of the night.

It found its way to the dance halls of Europe via Paris' cultural avant-garde. Suddenly, Tango was all the rage. Several evolutions of the dance happened, even the classical colors of tango (black and red–which was originally orange) were concieved and marketed.

Due to the influx of Europeans via travel and immigration to Buenos Aires, Tango returned with a new flavor and fervor. It moved out of the bordellos and slums into mainstream Buenos Aires society. It became "Gentrified." It no longer was the original "Dirty dance." It was now an earthy, beautiful and elegant art form. Further evolutions occurred and the dance took the form that we all know and love today.

To this day, Argentine Tango undergoes constant progressive growth while preserving its intimate, sensual, and elegant roots. This has created some of today's beautiful and popular Argentine Tango styles like Salón, Milonguero, Nuevo, Villa Urquiza, Nuevo, Fantasia (a.k.a. Show Tango), etc.

Argentine Tango performance by the late Carlos Gavito &
Geraldine Rojas

BALLROOM TANGO
Also known as American Tango, American Smooth Tango, American Standard Tango. Originally based on Argentine Tango, it deviated, branched off, and evolved (even the music) into a totally different dance altogether. Ballroom Tango is like the English muffin, and the French Fry. It is an American invention!

America first saw what was supposed to be a Tango in the 1921 silent movie, "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse." It starred Rudolph Valentino. This movie created a craze for the new dance.

America's first glimpse of "Tango." Rudolph Valentino's 1921 silent movie
(*Note: The soundtrack was added by the Youtube poster)

Unfortunately, due to the prevailing (and extremely prudish) social and moral attitudes of the 1920's and 1930's, Argentine Tango (as it was supposed to be danced), was considered too intimate, too much body contact, scandalous, lascivious, and thus socially unacceptable to be danced in public. Also, the sheer improvisational nature of Argentine Tango made it difficult to build a standardized teaching syllabus around.

Enter Arthur Murray (Yes, the founder of the Arthur Murray franchise chain of dance schools). He took Tango, combined it with touches from different Ballroom dances, "sanitized" the moves, "Anglicized" the terms, standardized the steps and patterns to make it fit into the stratified levels of Bronze, Silver, and Gold, (with separate pricing plans) of his dance schools. His efforts have succeeded in creating what is now known as Ballroom Tango. This method was applied to all dances taught by the chain.

A further evolution of this happened when American Tango crossed the Atlantic to England. The English codified the steps and movements further in order to standardize the judging for competitions. It became known as, International Tango (a.k.a. International Ballroom Tango, International Standard Tango).

American and International (Ballroom) tango are identical in technique. The difference is that American Tango permits open holds, which allow broken hold moves such as underarm turns, side-by-side choreography, etc. International Tango is strictly done in closed hold. Dancers cannot break their 3 points of contact (i.e. hips, left arms, right arms). Doing so will cost point deductions.

A world class Ballroom Tango at Blackpool, England.
The Olympics of Ballroom dancing competion

Technical Differences (That I know of)

*For Brevity: AT=Argentine Tango; BR=Ballroom Tango

Purpose of the dance
AT: Passionate. You dance for the connection. You dance for your partner. Danced socially.
BR: Exuberant. You dance for the appreciation and adulation of the audience/judges. Geared towards showcases and competition.

Music
AT: The Bandoneon is the primary instrument. Rhythm can change several times within one song. Danced in sets of 4 songs called a "Tanda." Conspicuous absence of percussion. Dancers dance to the rhythm of the music. (note the Argentine Tango video soundtrack)
BR: Characterized by distinctive staccato marching beat, usually in 2/4 time. Beat is normally via snare drum with a distinctive "dump-dump-dump-dump-da-da-dump-dump-dump-dump" in keeping with the standard 5-count basic step. I uses the rhythm of "slow, slow, quick, quick, slow." The music is arranged to match this pattern. (note the ballroom video soundtrack)

Posture
AT: Men–Weight forward on the balls of the feet, shoulders back, chest out. Women–same.
BR: Men–Weight back square on the heels, shoulders back, chest out. Women–Leaned back, weight on the heels

Dance Position
AT: Dancers commonly use the "Milonguero" stance–an embrace. The contact from chest-to-chest. Looks like the letter "A" when done right.
BR: Dancers use the "Waltz" hold. Contact is side of the hip to side of the hip, legs alternating in between each other. Looks like the letter "Y"

Foot Placement
AT: Toe lead. Toe hits the ground first on the step
BR: Heel lead. Heel hits the ground first, as in a march

Women's Shoes
AT: Tango shoes are stiff to help support the woman's weight as she is normally on the balls of her feet most of the time. This is also the reason why a lot of Tango shoes have stiletto heels. They have hard leather soles as they are better at pivoting, and intended to be worn out AND to go dancing with.
BR: Flexible to allow for better "Pointing." Heels are lower, and wider as the weight lands on the heel often. Their soles are made of suede to protect the floor.

Technique & Steps
AT: Predominantly improvisational. Strides are normally shoulder width. Movements are smooth deliberate and elegant.
BR: Predominantly step/pattern driven. With memorized/standardized cues. Strides are huge. Movements are exaggerated, snappy, aggressive, and have a stalking, staccato character.

Clothes
AT: Evening attire. If you can wear them out on an elegant date, this will work.
BR: Flashy, flamboyant ,Ball gowns, Costumes, feathers, sparkles, bling, make-up, etc.

With that, I hope it helps and clears up a few things.

What do Tango people do at a dinner party?

2009-01-03T12:24:00.000-08:00

I was supposed to have had a birthday party last November. Due to unexpected circumstances, that didn't happen. Then, Seattle was held in the grip of a two week sub-arctic freeze. All our parties and milongas were cancelled.

At the sign of the first decent thaw, we found an excuse to have a dinner party. We cooked our best Spanish inspired Filipino food. It was a warm gathering of friends. Friends who had a few things in common–A love for great company, fine wine, fine food, and a passion for Tango.

With appetites appeased, fireplace alight, and after 4 bottles of Champagne and 4.5 bottles of fine Malbec, the Tango, Vals, and Milonga music suddenly got louder. The dining table, couches, chairs, stools, were moved out of the way.

It didn't matter that our house was carpeted. It didn't matter that you had to navigate an odd route around the living room to the dining room. Everyone danced in socks and bare feet. It was so warm that we had to let open the door to cool the house down. It was beautiful!

What do Tango people do at a dinner party? Well, when critical mass is reached, we just have to dance to the strains of the bandoneon.

Musicality, a key element in Tango

2008-12-27T14:57:00.000-08:00

Musicality is a skill all too often neglected by a lot of dancers that I observe. The beauty of applying musicality is that when you exercise it by delivering different interpretations to the same music, it creates a totally different dance experience each time.

The chosen piece is "Poema." Here are a few video clips that illustrate how musicality makes a big impact. Observe the differences in their interpretations of the same Tango piece. All of them beautiful to watch, regardless of Tango style. The people shown below are professionals and have expended many years and innumerable hours practicing and performing, thus honing their skills in musicality.

To the regular lead social dancer (such as myself), the lesson gleaned from here is that (as the lead), you have to listen to the music and dance to it. I have lost count of the number of times I've watched people dance and do "Steps." Out of tune, out of time, out of rhythm, and moving together without harmony.

IMHO, "Musicality" is a glue that melds one's skill with that of the partner, while enveloped in the embrace of the music. You could do nothing but simply walk and syncopate it to the music, and it would be a lusciously beautiful experience.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Jennifer Bratt & Ney Melo

Tete Rusconi & Rosana Remón

Chicho Frumboli and Eugenia Parilla

Geraldine Rojas & Javier Rodrigues

(Thanks for the link, Tina)

4 Stages of Dance. What level are you at?

2008-12-25T23:18:00.001-08:00

One part of my occupation is as a training professional. I am always on the lookout for material regarding adult learning theory. I stumbled upon this article. Its a classic learning model, but adopted to dance.

This article was originally written with Ballroom dance in mind. However, I find it more poignant to the study of Argentine Tango as our dance is improvisational by it's very nature. This method of learning would be a disciple worth investing in for the aspiring Tango dancer.

Credit goes to: - by Dean Paton, on whose site I found the original article: http://www.nwdance.net/4_stages.html. I have made redactions to facilitate better reading in this medium.

~Ampster

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Dances and 4 Stages of Mastery

Unconscious Incompetence
Conscious Incompetence
Conscious Competence
Unconscious Competence

Here perhaps is a more useful way to approach the pleasant discipline we call "learning to dance." Instead of picturing the classes you take as a linear sequence - say, progressing through four levels of Swing - imagine yourself in an evolutionary process called the learning cycle, four distinct stages through which all human beings progress whenever they learn anything new.

1) Unconscious Incompetence

In this stage you have little experience or skill. In fact, you're likely quite bad, but because you don't know how truly bad you are, you don't feel bad, and your self-esteem isn't crippled. Yet.

2) Conscious Incompetence

True damage to self-esteem (and the false confidence that coexists with the bliss of ignorance) often occurs in this second stage of learning - Conscious Incompetence. As your awareness evolves into this stage, you begin to realize how little you know. Perhaps you notice how impossible it seems for you and your partners to do much of anything smoothly. You certainly convince yourself that practically everyone at every dance or class is so talented that you'd never think of dancing with them. You may well flee the dance early, and might even avoid such terrifying places of public exhibition for weeks.A vital step in the learning cycle. For once your exaggerated sense of self-loathing finds an equilibrium, you have the chance for some valuable self-assessment -- you can begin to determine your strengths and weaknesses, and from this sense of where you really are you can begin to focus on strategies for improvement. Much learning occurs here.

As your skills get better and your body works with your mind to integrate new steps and moves into your dancing, you evolve into stage three -- Conscious Competence.

3) Conscious Competence

This is enjoyable and exciting for most people, because they not only start seeing themselves as good dancers, they realize how much they have learned. Others tell them how enjoyable they are to dance with, now that they've reached a certain competence, so a reborn confidence repairs their self-esteem.

Nevertheless, dancers in the Conscious Competence stage spend much of each dance thinking about what move to execute next, and how to balance the effort required to choreograph the next eight bars with the excitement of connecting with their partner. Brains occasionally go on overload, and feet still get trampled, but in general Conscious Competence is an enjoyable stage. Most people spend considerably more time here than in the first two stages. It is also a plateau where many dancers choose to remain.

4) Unconscious Competence

True mastery isn't attained until this fourth stage of learning . This is the place where there is little or no difference between what the body has practiced to perfection and the mind has learned. You no longer think about your frame, or what move comes next. In fact, you don't think much (about the moves, at least). Instead, you're free to enjoy the moment and genuinely connect with your partner. Those who manage to reach this level of mastery are sought after, indeed revered on the dance floor.

The trick is in the getting there. Anyone who manages to take most of the classes offered is pretty much guaranteed to reach stage three -- Conscious Competence. After a year or so of Walter, Julie, or any other instructor, drilling you with new steps and old jokes, you'll dance comfortably with most partners and have a good time.

To achieve mastery, however, you may well have to abandon the linear approach -- give up the convenient notion that simply by progressing through a prescribed sequence of classes you'll end up a great dancer. When we think linearly, we tend to think in terms of quantity instead of quality, or we make alienating comparisons: I want to learn more slick moves; I'll only dance with partners at my level; she's better than I am (or I'm better than him). The trap here is that you risk becoming a dance snob, a stylized technician with the moves of Fred or Ginger, but the heart and soul of Schwarzenegger's Terminator.

When you dance with someone who has achieved mastery, you know it within a few seconds. These partners allow you to look and feel grand, not better than you are, but as good as you can be. You connect. You'll dance with them again and again. Such mastery is an art form, a gift they give to each of their partners. You can choose mastery, just as you can choose to stay at stage three. Both options are valid.

If you opt for mastery, however, part of the prescription is to start seeing each Living Traditions class not as a step in a finite sequence but as a timeless opportunity for learning. So what if you've taken Slow Waltz 2 twice, or Foxtrot 2 three times? Go back and take Slow Waltz 1 again. And again and again. Plunge back into Foxtrot 1, or Swing 2, or try role reversal. What you learn will not necessarily be a published part of the curriculum, but as you guide a less experienced dancer toward new confidence and grace, as you forget about your own footwork and simply enjoy moving with your partner to a new level of competence, your own dancing will transport you to a place of uncommon joy, and you will learn far more than you ever learned the first time through. About dancing, and about yourself.

That's the real magic of any dance class. No matter how many times you take it.

"The Walk" in Argentine Tango

2008-12-25T13:36:00.000-08:00

A lot of people who have really become proficient at Argentine Tango has ruminated about "The Walk." It is the beginning, basis, and foundation of how good dancers look on the milonga floor.

All this time I've been dancing Tango, I decided to just watch the dancers. I was astonished at my own observations of who looked good, and who didn't. Regardless of style, it boiled down to two types. Those who could, and those who could not walk.

Those who could walk:

It looked like they were on rollers... smooth
They were always sure footed. No awkwardness, any imbalance was instantly and smoothly compensated for
They looked to be in perfect synch with their partners
They didn't talk
They had their "Tango Faces" on
They were into each other
They were moving "as one"
They did not look like they were thinking of their steps. It just happened
They were elegant and fun to watch. You could see the connection happening

Those who could NOT walk:

Tried too hard to look good
Moved with an excess of motion
Tried too hard to make the steps work
Awkward and out of balance, axis, center...
Talked too much on the floor. Some were even trying to lecture
Bad posture
Choppy motion
Out of synch with the music
Painful to watch. Especially those who felt the need to do overly embellished things
Movements were out of synch with each other
The connection was clearly not there. Everything they did looked mechanical

These are just my general observations. It looked like the majority of "non-walkers" decided to go straight to the advanced, flashy, showy stuff, without first learning how to "Walk." Thinking (perhaps) that flashy steps and patters made you a tango dancer...

Why some women are not asked to dance

2008-12-25T00:24:00.000-08:00

My personal observations on why some men do not ask some women to dance. Compiled observations from different milongas I go to

• Intimidation

Some women are not asked to dance because the men who are in the milongas are totally intimidated by how good you look, and how good you move

• Wasn't impressed

Opposite of number one (see above). They saw you dance before and were not impressed by how you moved or looked

• Nobody knows you

People normaly go with the familiar. If you're a stranger, it will probably be harder for someone to drum up courage to ask you. Coupled with the other factors, things could get worse

• The Cliques

Some people in cliques will only dance within that group. If you happened to be in a milonga that was pervaded, then you'd probably end up not being asked.

• The way you look

Be as beautiful as you can be, and match the crowds "Persona" Dress "Hip," or "Casual" if you're in a milonga frequeted by the Nuevo. Dress "Elegant" if you're in a milonga frequented by the Vieja

• Body Language

Sometimes, the way one projects oneself on a chair discourages men from approaching you

• Women sit together (Strength in numbers)

Some men would not ask you to dance because all the women are sitting in a big bunch. They don't want to offend the others by homing in on you to dance. So, to save the others' feelings, they won't ask you, until you break away (i.e. get a drink, get a snack, come back from the lady's room, etc.

My intent is to let people know what others may be thinking so you can leverage that.
WHY? Because, Ampster wants all Tangueros & Tangueras to DANCE!

Dancing small, and making it your own... It's hard!

2008-12-24T21:49:00.000-08:00

So this last month, I once again had the opportunity to try out my newly found "Dancing small" technique. It seemed to work great, and all my partners seemed to like it. I did have to mix it up with the other stuff that I like to do. Otherwise it gets boring all on it's own.

As an evolutionary process, it's one thing to be able to do something you learned. It is (IMHO) another thing to make it "Your own." I.e. Assimilate it into your repertoire, and be able to utilize it seamlessly.

Why assimilate? It keeps things fresh. It makes for more interesting delivery and musical interpretation. It makes for a memorable dance experience. It's when you ask someone, and they describe you by the way you dance. It helps build an identity. I believe that in Tango, one should have their own memorable dance persona, and not just be a "step and pattern copy cat."

My first Argentine Tango teacher (Sonny Newman) once said,

"You need to make your dance your own. I see too many people trying to be like their heros; a Gavito, a Fabian, a Frumboli, or even a Miriam... It's a shame that they limit themselves so much by being satisfied by just copying moves. The experts started just like you, and learned a lot of this stuff from others and made it their own. They developed into what you see. You should do the same."
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That Tango connection

2008-12-24T21:46:00.001-08:00

A lot of us here have mentioned, "Connection" when we dance Argentine Tango.

What is it really to you? How would you describe it? What happens to you when that magical Argentine Tango "Connection" happens?

My take on connection is this:

I have had previous experience in many other dances, but as I have experienced, it is much more unique and intense in Argentine Tango than in any other dance—Hands down! (IMHO)

When I speak of connection, there is no one else that matters other than myself and my partner, who is sometimes a total stranger. I feel her breathing and she feels mine. I think of what I want to lead, and it just happens without effort or prodding. There is a feeling of "One body, four legs."

Everything flows... The music, the movement, syncopation, footwork, intuition, improvisation, etc., all comes together to be one unique experience where one is transported into a very special place for the duration of the tanda.

It's addicting, it's intoxicating, It makes people get that look of being in a trance, it's blissful, it's magical...

Don't impress her with your fancy steps! Impress her with...

2008-12-24T21:38:00.000-08:00

... the movement of your soul

I've recently had a leg injury. Because of that, I've had the opportunity to watch people at milongas. In the process, I once again see behavior that really rubs me wrong.

Here's the scenario:

A leader asks a [seemingly] beginner lady to dance a tanda. He then starts to lay on the fancy steps. The dance falls apart. Not because she doesn't know what to do, but rather, he leads it badly! Apparently, leader is a newbie, trying to compensate for some inadequacy. Anyway, he then tries to teach her the move that he's trying to do, in the middle of the dance floor, holding up traffic...

This makes for a very looong tanda. Not to mention, it is VERY, VERY, VERY rude to teach in a milonga. You just don't do that! A well meaning criticism can be very devastating and humiliating to a follow.

Seeing the follow, I dance with her. I keep it simple. SHE CAN DANCE! Not technically astute, but she is able to achieve that "Tango connection," which is the whole point of AT. After the tanda, she tells me "Thank you, I feel so much better with you than with that other guy."

My curiosity is piqued and I ask her, "Why?"

I embark on a small research project...

(This scenario is repeated in several milongas. There's always at least one lead who does this sort of thing)

The consistent answer is that, to the majority of ladies, it is the "Tango Connection" that makes the dance worthwhile.

Only the advanced dancers are the ones who can do (sometimes enjoy) the fancy stuff. For it to be enjoyable, you have to lead it well.

So, my conclusion is this:

Dance to the level of the follower. Don't try to push fancy steps if you can't lead it well, and if she's not comfortable with it. Keep it simple and concentrate on the connection.

Move her with your soul. Not your feet.

Basics that beginners in Tango should know

2008-12-24T21:30:00.000-08:00

A lot of beginners ask me for advice because they want to learn Argentine Tango. Here's what I tell them.

The metaphysical stuff

The objective of Argentine Tango is not dance for the awe and appreciation of others. The objective is to achieve that connection to whomever you dance with. There will come a time when "Magic" happens––an unbelievably beautiful melding of intent and movement between two people that is marvelously intimate.

This is achieved when all of the elements of AT come together (e.g. walks, hesitations, musicality, line of dance, etc.) without you ever having to think about it. It just happens. This is achieved over time via dedication to the dance.

The technical stuff

• Make sure your teacher is an Argentine Tango specialist. Someone who REALLY dances and understands the magic of Argentine Tango. Not just someone who knows steps.

• Master the basics (e.g walks, basic fundamental AT parameters of movement, rules, and etiquette)

• Learn how to string the basics together in musical interpretation.

• Don't be obsessed with steps. Step memorizers make the worse AT dancers.

• Learn to lead. The art of making your partner do something in synch with you without saying anything. It is the basis of AT

• Be familiar with authentic traditional tango music (NOT ballroom adaptations). I'm talking about the old scratchy stuff. You'll understand eventually.

• Be patient. AT requires time to learn. It requires time to be good at. I have lost count of the classmates I have had who wanted to learn everything AT fast. They're all gone from the milongas.

• Treat AT as a brand new dance learning experience. Keep an open mind, don't compare it to what you know now as this will be a brand new journey.

• Be humble. There's always someone who's better than you

Start with that for now.