Saturday 14 January 2012

Milonga watching 2

A quick note: I'm simply trying to describe as accurately as I can my impressions of BsAs milongas. I don't intend any of this as a criticism of London or any other milongas. & perhaps the best way to describe the (few) Buenos Aires milongas I've enjoyed is to say that they are socially laid-back and slightly formal. The dancing, and the brief conversations between tangos, are the focus. I guess that public dances always used to be a bit formal, and something of that spirit persists.

When you first arrive at (say) El Beso and start watching the dance, the quality of it seems overwhelming. It's excellent; these are all people who've danced a lot. But after watching for a while the eye begins to filter out the dancers. Not all the older tangueros are marvellous, some of them could be relative beginners, but those whose tango ancestry goes back to childhood begin to stand out. They are both energetic and relaxed, easy and sure of themselves, they have nothing to prove. They are all different, of course. Pedro keeps his feet busy without doing anything that looks particularly complicated, although he's totally assured, but he expresses the music with his upper body: partners who've danced with him tell me that there's a constant flow of emotion from his upper body. Another older guy dances with a smile: perhaps there's an element of wit in his dance as his partners laugh for no apparent reason other than that his feet might have led them somewhere unexpected. Another leads effortlessly a range of movement that always looks fresh and new. Alberto Dassieu leads a dance with a lot of style, and uses pauses and changes of speed, as well as a lot of upper-body movement. & so on, there are others. They are individual. & everyone from that background can effortlessly and comfortably fit plenty of dance into the tightest of spaces as a matter of course, where I'm challenged to keep moving at all.

Beyond this handful of giants, you start to notice a younger generation, late twenties onwards I suppose. They are fluent and move well, with good posture, which is initially impressive, but then perhaps you start to notice they repeat much the same dance in the same way, tanda after tanda, to different orquestas, and perhaps it's a bit breathless, a bit tense. I start to get the impression that many of the younger dancers are following patterns of steps they've learned: I start to recognise sequences of steps strung together, the salida, the giro, which I don't notice so much with the older dancers. Perhaps the older dancers think of their dance step by step, rather than in sequences of steps; this may be the secret of keeping moving in a confined space. & the dance of the younger generation is a lot less individual: they look much more alike.

Some younger dancers have mastered whole styles: I do a continuous double-take at 'Los Gavitos'. They do the master's dance really well, left and right hands raised high, the guy's left wrist twisted over, and their dance is very accomplished, but it's on the edge of looking like parody: it's not quite theirs, it doesn't have the instinctive naturalness of the tango of the older generation. Other younger dancers seem too fluent for their own good: the leaders can fit in eight consecutive giros, so they do, whether it seems to suit the music or not (perhaps whether their partner likes it or not). And of course there are a few younger dancers who look just great, and you can't help feeling that their emotional response to the music, excellent posture, relaxed physicality, and easy spontaneous movement will just continue to look better and better.

All that, of course, is how you think when you look at it from the outside. What really sticks, what really matters, is how relaxed, warm and affectionate milongas can feel. I'm probably naïve in finding it utterly entrancing to experience tango like that: perhaps there are layers of competitiveness, aggression and duplicity there that I don't notice, but I'd like to doubt it.

Pina Bausch told her dancers 'Dance for love!' What better reason, what other reason, can there be to dance tango?

14 comments:

Ana Saraiva said...

That is the only reason.

Wonderful post!

Chris said...

"what other reason, can there be to dance tango?"

Money, TC.

Hence that lack of individuality. For a BA youngster starting from scratch, the best way in to paid tango work is buying someone else's dance rather than growing your own. Being fake is not a problem, because your most lucrative work will be classes for people who likewise want a ready-made dance rather than their own.

Cinderella said...

"Pina Bausch told her dancers 'Dance for love!"
The German subtitle of the Pina Bausch movie reads: "Tanzt, tanzt, sonst sind wir verloren." (Dance, dance - or we are lost.)
That sounds very desperate to me - and reminds me of your last post, TC, and people who dance like there is no tomorrow.
There are different reasons for people to dance. Luckily some do it for love.

Tangocommuter said...

Thanks, Ana!

TangoAirO said...

I agree with Pina and all who share this notion & if you are looking for another reason, than how about this extract?

... I praise the dance. Oh man, learn to dance, or else the angels in heaven will not know what to do with you. Saint Aurelius Augustinus (A.D. 354 ... 430)

Wonderful post as always!

Anonymous said...

Great observations, fantastic post.

However, I do wonder why you (or we in general) often pay much more attention to the leaders.
I have always found it more difficult to describe the qualities of a good milonguera, how and where the woman contributes to the dance.

to make the dance happen, i am sure those attributes that you mention
"energetic and relaxed, easy and sure of themselves, they have nothing to prove"
apply equally to them and a well trained observer can distinguish between a great milonguera and a `follower`.

matias

Tangocommuter said...

Thanks, TangoAirO. & that's a great quote: something to look forward to!

& many thanks for the comment, Anon. Yes, I was thinking while I wrote it that I was writing only about the men. I guess the simple answer is that that's mainly the role I've danced, and I've learned about it from men. I've also learned about it by dancing with women who have experienced the dance of the older guys, and know how it should feel. I really think observation on tangueras should come from women.

But I have noted the lack of women of the same generation as the older tangueros in the milongas. Not a complete lack, but I've not seen so many of them. & I have written a bit about Muma, about Adela Galeazzi, and just a little about Miriam Pincen.

Paul said...

TC wrote:
I start to get the impression that many of the younger dancers are following patterns of steps they've learned: I start to recognise sequences of steps strung together.

Perhaps the older dancers think of their dance step by step, rather than in sequences of steps

Many interesting impressions are described here: the relaxed ease of the seasoned social dancer who dances his feelings to the music; the unfortunate cloning effect traceable in the technically competent but derivative style too often, though not exclusively, seen in aspiring young dancers. I wonder, though, whether it is how dancers think about individual steps or sequences that accounts for this difference. It seems that to me that after decades of dancing, the milongueros you observed are hardly thinking at all or if they are, it is the thinking which Daniel Kahneman would call Type 1; that is, it is intuitive, instantaneous and effortless.

What might, however, account for the differences observed are the manner in and conditions under which tango is generally taught these days.

Chris said...

Paul wrote: "the milongueros you observed are hardly thinking at all or if they are, it is the thinking which Daniel Kahneman would call Type 1; that is, it is intuitive, instantaneous and effortless."

It's the type of mental process that actually Daniel avoids calling "thinking" at all.

Three of the most important words I heard as a beginner were from Carlos Gavito. "It's a reflex". After thinking about that :) I found it fully explained the detrimental effect of the kind of tango dance teaching that demands thinking, such as the typical modern class. And it contrasted the traditional method of learning (by dancing) which demands the opposite - the absense of thinking.

This surely is a big part of the edge the Argentines have over the English in learning to dance tango. The average Argentine is much better at acting without thinking :)

Tangocommuter said...

Thanks, Paul. When I wrote '...think of their dance' I didn't mean to suggest any kind of 'thinking about'. 'Conceive of' is closer to what I had in mind. As you suggest, the process of dancing is intuitive and spontaneous, and we're talking about people whose tango is based on life-long experience. & you mention 'young' dancers: I was talking about a younger generation, mostly 30s and older.

I've nothing against what you call a 'cloning' effect. How else do you learn dance but by watching and imitating? The older dancers today were watching and imitating their family when they were kids. & I've nothing against teachers teaching ready-made sequences, so long as they don't suggest that that's all there is to tango. We all have to begin somewhere, and I expect the older generation started out with basics too! They just started at an age when they were receptive and physically quick, and have had a lifetime to develop it. & as I said, there's a younger generation that is in the process of finding a tango that is theirs, and they have the good fortune to watch the older dancers night after night, too.

Gavito and his partner showed sequences for students to follow, but he also said, 'No one can teach you the feeling.'

Let's not underestimate how much time the older generation spent on the floor when they were in their early 20s. Pedro tells me that he was out dancing every night for years: that's how you find what suits you, and that's probably why all the older dancers look different. I didn't intend to knock younger dancers who are in the process, but do I envy them the opportunities!

Cinderella said...

TC wrote: "How else do you learn dance but by watching and imitating? The older dancers today were watching and imitating their family when they were kids."
I agree as far as children are meant, but as for adults I'm not so sure that they actually learn something (develop something unique) by imitating. Watching is helpful, though.
I found out years ago that taking lessons confuses me, as it always makes me start thinking, while I'm dancing. And, as it is, thinking in a way keeps me from feeling. So I stopped taking regular lessons and tried to learn by doing (dancing) only. I might be ways better as a dancer if I had taken loads of lessons, but I'm quite happy having become the kind of dancer I am. It sometimes happens that I panic all of a sudden in the middle of a really good dance, just about to start thinking about my steps. ("Why is this feeling so wonderful? What am I/are we doing?") In that moment of panic I realize that if I'd give in to that thoughts I would no longer know how to dance. So I close my eyes and go back to feeling instead. :)

Chris said...

"I've nothing against what you call a 'cloning' effect. How else do you learn dance but by watching and imitating?"

By real dancing. Here's an explanation: The Traditional Way to Learn to Dance Tango.

As the author says, dance is like speech. Children start out listening and imitating to learn words, but only through moving on to real conversation do they themselves learn to converse.

In dance, some people get stuck at the imitation stage. They develop "speech" that's simply replays of others' conversations. They become clones having nothing of their own to say... but still the desire to be heard. Because they tried to learn through instruction, not conversation.

It is said that in the dancing Golden Age, the worst possible insult was "they dance all the same." The finest compliment was "He's unique." The same holds today.

Every one of us starts unique. It's natural. And natural learning preserves and amplifies that uniqueness.

Tangocommuter said...

Chris, thanks to the link to Christine Denniston's page. Of course I've no access to her sources, but I have watched most of the 30-odd older dancers answering questions such as 'How did you learn to dance?' on the Practimilongueros site, and I found little of the uniformity she suggests. Quite a number learned to dance from mothers, some practised with aunts or older brothers. I can't recall any mention of the formal practicas she describes ('academias', almost,) although everyone learned both lead and follow roles. Pedro told me he was 'musicalizador' for informal practicas with older boys; he watched, then followed before leading.

But I'm more concerned with how we learn now. Ricardo Vidort, Gavito and Tete all learned in that era and all have taught recently, though are no longer with us: as far as I know none of them ever taught in that 'traditional' way. Pedro Sanchez, Alberto Dassieu, Pedro Faraldo Toto among others still with us and teaching also learned that way, and none of them teaches in that way either. Why? Most of them say that having a feel for the opposite role is important, but none of them seems to think it's important to teach and practise man to man. They all teach by showing, and then helping students to practise.

That generation didn't start out as older people who'd taken a few classes and then turned up at milongas: they were young and obsessed when they started, and by the age of 25 they'd have worked their way through what to us would be a lifetime of dancing.

I suggested recently that all classes should have a 'change roles' section as well as the usual 'change partners', but nobody seemed to like that suggestion. Anyway, I'm sure you develop a feel for the other role by dancing a lot, and by watching those who look good, and also those who don't. (Wasn't it Gavito who said he learned a lot by watching bad dancers?) Dance enough, and seek out expert help from those with experience, and you learn to use, in your own way, the figures you learn in classes, which are just the basis, the beginning. & if leading is your role, you find out how to lead partners to dance with you. It helps to be 13 and obsessed, with tango-mad older brothers and very skilled elders, but if that's not your situation, so long as you focus on doing well in the milonga rather than in the class, I think you can still enjoy the dance with partners who enjoy dancing with you.

Chris said...

"I have watched most of the 30-odd older dancers answering questions such as 'How did you learn to dance?' on the Practimilongueros site..."

That question is be conspiciously absent from all those interviews I've seen. That's as I'd expect (a matter on which you and I should probably agree to disagree), but if you do have an example, by all means show it.

"Pedro Sanchez, Alberto Dassieu, Pedro Faraldo Toto among others still with us and teaching also learned that way, and none of them teaches in that way either. Why?"

I'd guess the usual reason: they learned socially but are now teaching commercially. The two have almost nothing in common.

"none of them seems to think it's important to teach and practise man to man. They all teach by showing".

Clearly they and their students prefer teaching at a distance, rather than through the embrace. This is the norm for commercial teaching.

If you have an alternative suggestion, I'd be interested to hear it.