The music dictates...

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

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

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

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'

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...!

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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We interrupt this broadcast...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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