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

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...

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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
  
  
  
  
  

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Un-making a tango zombie

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!

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

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

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 ! ! !

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

-noun

1. the act or process of rejecting
2. the state of being rejected
3. 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

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.