A tango event 2

& the winner is... (are) Irene and Man Yung, of course. Un abrazo grande is on its way to you, to be used within one month of the date of issue at a milonga of your choice!

Not all tango dancers practised on street corners. In the 1940s, some of the leading lights of Buenos Aires tango met three times a week at El Club Social y Deportivo Nelson to practise, led by the tanguero known as Petroleo, and by 'El Negro Lavandina', 'the black bleacher', whose daytime job seems to have been whitewashing. Mingo Pugliese was invited to join the Club Nelson group at the age of 12, in 1948: it's his description of the dancer who 'held tightly onto his partner and had her do a headfirst somersault'. He says the dancer was Salvador Lorenzo Piazza. (Robert Farris Thompson: Tango: the art history of love p. 254.)

(Have you seen that move yet at your local milonga? Do let me know.)

Petroleo himself was a bank clerk by day who wrote accounts of tango for his bank's newsletter: tango was respectable by now. Thompson claims that Lavandina and Petroleo 're-thought tango', and he lists 23 tangueros who met regularly at the Club Nelson to practice amongst themselves, and to develop the dance. They all had nicknames, their tango identities: one, Roberto Marcos, was called La Biblia because of his encyclopaedic knowledge of tango moves.

It's too bad Thompson completely ignores the tango of the sophisticated Buenos Aires crowd of the late 30s and 40s, and instead focuses entirely on what's usually called 'fantasía'. The fantasía dancers were the exception: they danced (according to Thompson) at dance floors where there was plenty of room, which was where Copes and María Nieves practised and found the material for their shows. Extravagant tango was an old tradition. Thompson points to descriptions of competitions: in the 20s and 30s El Cachafaz danced competitions against all the best dancers of his day, including José Méndez, who later opened a studio where he taught Mingo Pugliese in the early '50s. This kind of dancing wasn't the smooth intimate dance of the confiterias: it was a competitive display of skill, the dance of a country that had also influenced the way football was played.

José Méndez also appeared in films. I found this clip from the 1951 film, Derecho Viejo, about the life of the musician Eduardo Arolas. This is the kind of tango that was danced in the 1930s; this is old tango!

There's a kind of assumption that 'milonguero' is the old style, the old people's style, and that the dance of display and competition, 'nuevo', is new, but this doesn't seem to be the truth. The dance that is 'más nuevo', the real innovation, seems to be 'milonguero', the close-hold dance that developed in crowded clubs. Until another Thompson researches it, its exact point of origin is probably a mystery. I can only think that it is more of an emotional innovation than a physical one. It's about that union with the music and a partner that is so unexpected and overwhelming every time that we have to keep returning to it, week after week, and never get tired of it (I hope). Just when was this discovered?

Another pointer to how revolutionary this was might be found in the accounts of the dancers on the Practimilonga blog. It's clear from these accounts and many others that this kind of dance, the one all the kids wanted to get into, was strictly protected by bouncers, and under-18s weren't allowed in. Of course they all tried to cheat their way in, and tall guys were at an advantage, but it sounds serious. & of course they all wanted to be there! We've heard the descriptions of the grim 'barrio milongas', where the guys stood in the middle of the room and the girls and their mums sat round the periphery, fanning themselves and deciding who was worth dancing with. Who wouldn't want to get away from that! To get out of the barrio and into a downtown milonga, where men and women eyed each other across the floor, and danced close...

There are so many questions. Thompson does a great job, just by talking to many people and gathering memories and stories, and by digging into archives, in uncovering the African influences in the growth of tango, and his book is an enthusiastic history. Wouldn't it be great if someone could do the same for the origins of milonguero tango? It might not help us dance better, but it's useful to know where and how it began, and if no one studies it soon, it'll be beyond memory. When and where did it start? Who have been the great dancers of the milongas? Was it exclusively close-hold? The bouncers at the door: was this city regulation, or was it just because the dancers expected it? Who were the women who turned up at the confiterias to dance? Was there a generation of women then who could go out unaccompanied and choose a dance partner at will? (For that matter, who were the women who danced with the Club Nelson dancers?) Various people have mentioned clubs and confiterias: it would be great if someone could get a list, and a history of them. & so on. There are so many questions.

But anyway, I don't buy the view that 'nuevo' is new. The real 'nuevo' is milonguero.

A tango event

Found it! 'He held tightly onto his partner and had her do a headfirst somersault.'

I knew I'd read this description of a tango event in a well-researched history of tango, and it's taken me a while to re-find it. The question is: did this event occur in a) 1948: b) 1997: c) 2009?

Bonus points for answering where: a) on the set of 'The Tango Lesson': b) Club Nelson; c) Cachirulo milonga?

My right arm

Talking with a partner recently who's not danced long, but has a lifelong (literally) love of tango music: 'In one class I was told to hold my hand like this, and in another...' A not unfamiliar story. I reply: if you ask me, classes can be useful, but don't take anything you hear as scripture. What matters is what works on the floor, what's comfortable for you and your partner, what helps you dance together with the music. Hard advice, since if you pay for a class you expect to get The Truth, and it takes a while to realise that what you pay for isn't necessarily any use whatever. It happens. Perhaps the only 'scripture' in tango is that there is no scripture.

The embrace is a particularly complex area since every body is shaped differently, is a different size, has different habits of movement even within a similar pattern of steps.

My right arm has discovered this of its own accord. It's sometimes been blamed for holding a partner too tightly, which is uncomfortable, and I realised that, curiously, the complaints increased with the height of the partner. Shorter partners never had any problems, while a tall (taller than me) partner I danced with found it the most uncomfortable. All the same, other tall partners were perfectly comfortable.

I've also danced with one of the older generation of UK tangueras, one of that fabled generation who found their way to Buenos Aires in the late '80s, a generation with more than two decades of tango under their belts. (There aren't many of them, and they know each other well.) & when I dance with this lady my right arm finds it's completely redundant. I don't need it at all: it simply floats off her back, when we're walking and even when we're turning. True, she's not tall, and she moves very easily, although no longer young. I'm guessing that it's a matter of trust; I know from the embrace that she'll follow effortlessly, and this makes for great dances. So perhaps it's not entirely my fault after all!

I wonder about other dancers' experiences of right arms: your right arm or your partner's right arm. I'm curious about our collective experience of right arms.

PS. When I said that there's no 'scripture' in tango, I was thinking of the embrace, which is going to vary with every partner. I wouldn't want to suggest that everyone is entitled to do as they please on the dance floor! & there is scripture in the form of videos, particularly of the older generation.

Comments on comments on comments on...

Chris, thanks for taking up the problems of openness, but I'd distinguish between criticism, which I welcome, and derogatory remarks, which are close to character assassination. As Mari says, you shouldn't use someone else's blog for such remarks. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm the publisher of Tangocommuter, so I believe I'm legally responsible for everything on it, whether I write it or not, and I don't want to be sued for defamation, or even involved in defamation. Ever. (& I was once threatened with legal proceedings for something I wrote... True.) So I've got to be able to draw a line. & why shouldn't I be able to comment on comments? I didn't say that anything was Unacceptable, just that it's unacceptable and discourteous to slag other people off (to use basic English). It happens too much on the net. I'm sure you'll agree.

I linked the video, but Janis has drawn huge attention to it, and got everyone watching it.

I didn't say much about the dancing, but I was curious about the music, a very contemporary, blues-influenced piece. Definitely not golden age tango. Watching the clip again I'm struck again that Pancho leads a heavy, fairly basic dance that feels more like canyengue and seems to suit the music very well. I don't think you could dance a more elaborate 'classic' tango to music like that; it just wouldn't feel right.

Pancho chose the music, and invited Allison to dance with him. The video was made by the Cachirulo milonga, and uploaded by Héctor 'Cachirulo' Pellozo. The thing I like about Cachirulo is that it's never, ever po-faced. There's room for laughter there, as well as for the intensity of great tango. It certainly feels like the friendliest place I've ever been in. As Tina, who has long acquaintance with it, says: 'Cachirulo is a family, and Pancho is one of their own, and this is his "thing". His way.' So why focus the blame on Allison? As Anon says, '...this is meant to be a fun performance between friends, right?' & why not?

I still hope Jantango will withdraw her comment, or replace it with a more reasoned one. I have to say that I can't leave any future comments like it on this blog. But otherwise, of course, you're all always welcome!

Comments

I read Melina's recent post announcing that she was enabling 'comment moderation' because of anonymous threats and insults. I've begun to realise that Tangocommuter is about the only tango blog of my acquaintance that hasn't enabled comment moderation. (Perhaps I should try harder to annoy people.) I've never seen the need for it, and I like to be an open house where people can say what they like, and it's worked well. There's been a bit of trivia but there have been a lot of great conversations, and lots of interesting feedback. Three years of it this month, and nearly 400 posts. & anyway I've never had to wonder whether a comment is acceptable or not... until last week.

I didn't want to mention names, but everyone else has, so OK: Jantango's comment on the Cachirulo video. Of course I can simply delete that comment myself, but that feels too easy. (Thanks, by the way, to La Reina and Joli for your comments: thanks for making me laugh out loud.)

You – the whole wide world – are welcome to say what you like about tango on Tangocommuter; that it should be danced like a cancan, on stilts, spouting pseudo-Argentine nonsense, dressed like chickens and definitely off the beat. I'll disagree with you, but let's talk about it. But derogatory remarks about other people definitely aren't acceptable.

Jantango, most of us entirely agree with your views on tango. We're on your side! We respect your experience and knowlege. But one of the things you admire in your Argentine hosts is their tradition of courtesy and politeness. You've tried hard to become a porteña: can't you adopt that too?

Moreover, you got it wrong. You don't know the milonga: I hear you never go to Cachirulo. You don't know what the arrangement was that evening, and you don't know Allison. We always look forward to your tango comments, but this kind of comment makes you no friends.

So I won't delete your comment myself, but I invite you to delete it. Simply log in, go to the comment and click on the little dustbin icon. It's easy, it'll disappear. Think about it. & write to us about tango.

Tangocherie recently wrote a long and very heartfelt post about the corruption of tango as a result of visitors' attitudes. That kind of comment is really valuable.

Melingo in London

So, that music, 'bluegrass meets canyengue', that so intrigued my ear with a refreshing, heart-felt sound, even if it's not the sound of the golden age, which after all was quite a while ago...

It's always interesting to hear music developing. It's what music has always done. Musicians have always listened, and helped themselves to what suits their own paths. As Jean-Luc Godard (who's borrowed a few things in his time) said: 'It's not where you take it from that matters: it's where you take it to'. Or did he take that from Picasso?

Thanks, Ali: the music in that video is a track called Luisito and it's on Daniel Melingo's second album, Tango Maldito, available as a download from Amazon. It's the most interesting growth of tango music I've heard. Orquesta Escuela de Tango Emilio Balcarce has done wonderful work in getting golden-age musicians to train young players, and they play golden age tango with real individuality, but it's still the old music, the old arrangements and songs. Gotan Project spoiled (to me) the music by bringing in the inflexible beat of the drum. Melingo, '...bohemian of Buenos Aires, and so of the world', writes his own music, and sings his songs with a classic quartet; bandoneon, bass, violin, guitar. He looks back to the songs of Edmundo Rivero and Roberto Goyeneche, who he sounds like. Fascinating music and song, even if it's not really played as music for dancing.

& it so happens that the Melingo quartet will play at the Barbican in London on April 6 as part of the wonderful La Línea festival that highlights the best Latin music each year. Curiously, they are the support act for the singer Yasmin Levy, who explores Judeo-Spanish song and Flamenco. To put all that into one concert!

Most of the YouTube videos of Melingo are from a 2001 concert, and the balance isn't good, but this one is a neat animation, and the music is well recorded. & here he is again, talking about his music and singing. See you at the concert!

Oh, and the Melingo website is here. In English, and a fun read.

Allison at Cachirulo

Here's Allison having a great time on the floor at Cachirulo in El Beso just last night. Last time I saw her dance was with Pedro Sanchez and it was... a bit more restrained.

& that music! Bluegrass meets canyengue! I like it, but canyengue appeals to me. Canyengue is fun.



PS. I love it that the 'demos' at Cachirulo are always the local folk with some event - a birthday, an anniversary - to celebrate. They aren't all perfect, although the best are fantastic. (Refreshing after some of the demos from professional teachers we get in London...)

Vals in the minor, again.

Chopin! Thanks to Halbert for answering my query as to whether there were waltzes in the minor in European music. I was thinking about dance music, so I looked at the music of Johann Strauss, Director of Music for the Imperial and Royal Court Balls, rather than at the music of Chopin, the melancholic exile, music that wasn't written for the dance floor. Halbert's link in the comments might not work (Blogger doesn't make links in comments easy), but there's an extract here, while spotifiers can listen to the entire, very familiar, Waltz No. 7 in C sharp minor (Op. 64,2) of 1847.

And thanks to Chris, UK for the link to the Arolas version of Lagrimas y sonrisas on Audio AM. While on that site I found a version of Pabellón De Las Rosas by Arolas, also from 1913, which is in the major except for the ending. & I also found a version of the Champagne tango by Roberto Firpo from 1914: listening out for major and minor I realised that it starts out in the minor, moves into an effervescent major – and ends once more in the minor. Which I found amusing.

I explored the sadly short life of the wonderfully gifted Eduardo Arolas a year ago.

I'm fascinated by these old recordings of tango music from very nearly a century ago, recorded before the days of the electric microphone (around 1928). The sound quality isn't great, but there's a freshness and direct simplicity about the music. It was new music then: Pabellón De Las Rosas was written by José Felipetti who was born in 1890, so was only 23 when it was recorded. Manuel Aróztegui, composer of the Champagne Tango was born only two years earlier.

Vals in the minor

I've always loved vals above anything else, but it's taken me five years to notice something that has been staring me in the face ever since I first struggled to dance it: that a good many tango valses are in the minor. I'm really curious about this: perhaps there's someone out there who can tell us more. As far as I know, the European waltz is always in the major, the giddying, swirling dance of smiling dancers. We all know that tango vals isn't like this.

Some things I've found out recently:

The vals was danced in BsAs as early as 1810: the polka too goes back to early in the 19th century. Various local versions grew up and developed.

One of the oldest recorded vals I can find is still a great favourite, Lagrimas y sonrisas, which was recorded by Eduardo Arolas in 1913 – and it is in the minor. (Sadly, I can't find that recording on Spotify: a pity because it's a wonderfully controlled accelerando, it starts slow and gets faster and faster.) 'Tears and smiles': appropriately, the lively cheerful rhythm of the vals is tempered by the melancholic minor key.

Desde el alma by Rosita Melo, recorded by Firpo in 1920 and recorded in many different arrangements since, of which the D'Arienzo and Pugliese versions are especially well known – minor.

Orillas del Plata written and recorded by Juan Maglio, who died in 1934, minor.

Many of the great early Canaro valses including El triunfo de tus ojos, Adios juventad, Con tu mirar, Palomita blanca, all recorded pre-1932, all minor.

D'Arienzo valses may be more inclined to the major: Pabellon de las rosas, for instance, is major. Arrangers would use pre-existing material, which probably included a lot of vals in a minor key.

I ran a quick check on the waltzes of Johann Strauss: all the best-known ones are in the major. But Chopin, Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Schubert, Liszt all wrote waltzes, and I can't check them all, so there might be a European precedent for waltz in a minor key. I'd be curious to know if there are European waltzes in the minor. Or is the vals in the minor an Argentine innovation?

Wherever vals in a minor key originated it seems to have settled in Buenos Aires, where that peculiar mixture of cheerful rhythm and melancholic scale are still, to many people, the ultimate in tango, the music that above all else wakes up our hearts and makes us want to dance.

The King's Speech... and more

'His majesty's pleasure … The King's Speech sets used for gay porn

London property used to film Oscar frontrunner was previously hired for a porn film

Its distinctive decaying wallpaper and Palladian windows made it an atmospheric double for speech therapist Lionel Logue's 1930s treatment rooms in bromantic [sic] Oscar frontrunner The King's Speech. Yet that was not the first time the property at 33 Portland Place, London, has caught the eye of film-makers. Reports confirm that in 2008 it was also used as a location for gay porn film, Snookered...

The rooms are owned by Lord Edward Davenport, described on his own website as "one of Britain's most flamboyant entrepreneurs, a businessman renowned for taking chances and living a life of adventure". The £30m property was once the location of the high commission for Sierra Leone but was taken over by Davenport, who was initially hired to refurbish it, in the late 1990s following a legal wrangle. In an interview with the Independent three years ago, Davenport's press secretary boasted that the rooms were used for orgiastic parties.'

Guardian Thursday 24 February 2011

& we danced there, too...

Tango journeys

I was fascinated by Miriam Pincen's account of her life in tango for several reasons. First, if anyone hasn't watched it yet, it contains a hitherto unseen few minutes of video of Ricardo Vidort dancing with Miriam. It's from the collection of Oscar Casas, and I hope someone will twist his arm to make him release more! (Only joking.) But it's likely he has more, perhaps even a lot more.

Her comment on 'entrega' was interesting. I've seen the word defined only in relation to the female partner: 'She has good entrega', meaning she gives herself up to the dance. But I've always wondered if it also applies to the way the leader becomes part of the music (in fact how both dancers together become part of the music) and she confirms this: she says she prefers dancing with partners who surrender (entregan) their bodies to the music.

& her 'journey' through tango must be somewhat familiar to all of us. She grew up at a time when tango was no longer the passion of BsAs, encountered it when she was older, and was completely intrigued by it. So how to learn it? To learn something you go to classes, of course. So she took classes, with Todaro and Copes among others, and learned to dance a complex, display tango. But the world of the milongas really captivated her to the extent that, although fluent in display tango, she spent a couple of years watching before she dared to dance socially. Her respect for the world of the milongas is very clear.

I guess we all start off intrigued by walking to the music, move on warily to the world of high kicks and exaggerated movements (I groan at the memory of 'Intermediate Classes'!), until realising that all we really want to do is to dance close and let ourselves be absorbed into that music...

Crocuses

Yesterday, in Tangocommuter's (in need of attention) garden...

Speaking of practicas...

... Oktango have just announced that from today onwards they will be opening the Welsh Centre every Friday from 6.30 to 11pm for... a practica!

The Welsh Centre is at 157-163 Gray's Inn Road, London WC1X 8UE, and entry is only £3 for the evening. Details on the Oktango website. I hope it will be well used! It's a great floor to dance on, and there's a bar upstairs.

Comments on comments

Sound systems: as I said in my original post, I'm sure many London sound systems are of good quality. The problem is the arrangement of the speakers, and it's no good relying on two speakers at one end of a hall. The volume has to be turned up to reach and to overcome the inevitable loss of sound, and then people who aren't dancing start shouting at each other to make themselves heard. I take Chris, UK's point about the limitation of house systems, but streamed audio is now possible, and I look forward to the day when neat, efficient speaker systems deliver adequate sound all over the dance floor, preferably without wiring. I agree with Charles Long that good quality sound is really important. If sound is well-focused it can change the dynamic of a milonga.

Several people have agreed that less teaching is good. My feeling is that London tango could do with many more practicas, guided or otherwise. After all, even in 21st century London, men can't dance on street corners with other men, and won't be able to until tango is vastly more widely known and accepted. We all need more secluded places to practice in. Then it should be possible for the dancers to invite in teachers to help and comment, rather than teachers running classes. Then dancers engaged in dancing would call the shots.

& Jantango tells me that Maipu 444 has closed. The upstairs room that housed seven milongas a week has been sold, along with the parquet floor that has welcomed the soles of many great names of tango. It's like losing a friend, even though I can't claim to be at all well acquainted with the place. No more videos on the Cachirulo YouTube channel with the familiar red and black tablecloths! Or maybe the tableclothes will move to Villa Malcolm, where the Saturday night Cachirulo Milonga will relocate, along with the house video camera.

PS: Melina has left a long and very interesting comment here as a reply to what Chris, UK said. There was a problem of emphasis in the translation, and she clarifies the kind of help she and Detlef try to give, to enable people to dance more easily together.

Tango correctness

Back early last November, here, I was delighted to post a three-part interview with Melina Sedo, who teaches tango along with her partner, Detlef Engel. Just last week, Chris UK left a comment on it, which has set me thinking. I hope Melina and Chris won't mind if I repeat the exchange, which is preceded by something Melina said in the interview:

"There are loads of mistakes that followers can make. If that wasn’t the case, they would hardly need lessons, would they?"

Chris replied: 'Melina, girls generally don't need lessons. Take a look at the great social dancers of the BA milongas, almost none of whom took a lesson in their life. Is their dancing full of "mistakes" that need your lessons to correct? Of course not. A typical girl having an affinity for the dance needs only a guy who can dance well. She can learn all she needs to know by dancing.' (As usual, the context matters: Cassiel said he believed that when things went wrong it was the leader's fault, and Melina is replying that it's not that simple.)

'Take a look at the great social dancers of the BA milongas, almost none of whom took a lesson in their life'? This seems manifestly untrue. True, they didn't go out to classes, pair up with men they didn't know and be dragged into leg-wraps and ganchos: that kind of class hardly existed when they were young, and their mothers wouldn't have allowed it. But all the accounts (listen to them on Practimilonguero) show that tango was THE popular dance of the 1940s; it was danced at family get-togethers, at parties, at neighbourhood festivals, as well as at local milongas. So where did everyone learn? The answer seems to be: from their mothers. Many accounts by dancers who grew up in the 1940s mention mothers as the source of their dance. The basics of tango were learned to the radio around the kitchen table, while the boys who'd already learned a thing or two (from the same mothers) would be out on the street corners swapping moves with each other, and perfecting their style. 'My dad didn't care much for dancing, but my mother really loved it' is a common sentiment.

The local milongas seem to have been very formal: the men stood in the middle of the floor trying to make eye-contact with the girls sitting with their mothers around the floor. I'm rather glad I've never found myself in that situation.

So, no, you can't really say that the girls never took lessons, that all their wonderful fluency came simply from the embrace of the right guy. Romantic, but unlikely. But at the same time, is it right to say that 'There are loads of mistakes that followers can make'? 'Mistakes'? By what canon of correctness? Perhaps something has gone amiss in translation here. I can think of more or less effective ways to lead or follow: of more or less comfortable, or pleasing, or even acceptable. But 'mistakes' suggest a rigid right-and-wrong reminiscent more of ballroom, where the judges mark you down for your 'mistakes'. (A system that's sadly creeping into tango via the 'mundiales'?)

And even if we think in terms of effective, comfortable, pleasing, acceptable lead-and-follow, we're likely to end up with identical dancing. Look at the YouTube videos of Ricardo Vidort, and compare them to videos of Osvaldo Cartery. Could their dance be more different? & yet they grew up as lads together, practicing with each other on street corners, but they found what worked for them, how best they each could follow the music with a partner; they found what their partners appreciated, what didn't go down well, what felt good, and that became their tango, and it was different from each others' tango. Or from anyone else's. Perhaps there's an anti-authoritarian streak to tango.

Osvaldo y Coca Cartery in their Practimilonguero interviews talk about the increasing similarity of the tango of young dancers, and they use the word 'clones'. Perhaps that's the result of too many classes, of too much tango correctness.

Pedro Sanchez and Rosanna Remon

I made a mistake a few weeks ago: I titled a post 'As good as it gets'. I had a feeling at the time that this was unwise. It highlighted a wonderful piece of dancing, Adela Galeazzi and Santiago Cantenys, but we live in such a wonderful decade that within weeks there's bound to be another wonderful piece of dance on YouTube, and the title suggested that all the others will always be inferior. & that's what's happened.

Pedro Sanchez and Rosanna Remon. They're not in the romantic setting of the last tanda at Centro Leonesa around 4am, with just two other couples left on the floor. It's daylight, and they're in someone's neat but not too spacious kitchen, with a CD player on the worktop. Does it matter?

It seems absurd to me that she's not known in London: as far as I'm aware she's never visited. She's Argentine, teaches and lives not that far away in Milan, so she's at least an EU resident, possibly a citizen. Wouldn't it be great to see her here every once in a while, to get some workshops, perhaps? I like the way she looks completely absorbed in her dance, which is so uncluttered by superfluous ornaments that even the slightest toe tap (and they are slight) attracts attention. There are very few videos of her: the other five are of her dancing with Tete when he taught in Italy.

It's great to see Pedro dancing with her. Many thanks to Jantango for filming and uploading this.

Sound systems

There's a kind of rumour that sound systems in BsAs are not that good. Does this suggest that sound systems elsewhere, in London, say, are far superior? Because I don't think they are necessarily.

Many of the halls that are home to milongas in BsAs are home to nothing else: they have milongas night after night, with different Djs and organisers, so it's likely that the systems have evolved to give the best possible sound. Sadly, this is never the case in London, where organisers can face the trouble of setting up speakers and amplifiers, and removing them at the end of the evening. The set-up might be adequate or not, even if the equipment is excellent.

Salon Canning is an interesting example of a hall which functions as both a milonga and, because it is so extensive, as a place where people sit and chat. There's never room on the dance floor for everyone who is there: you dance in shifts, so to speak. The square dance floor is at the centre of a massive square room, and the speakers are on a rig over the floor itself, so the music is angled down onto the floor from all four sides. This works well: the dancers have sufficient volume of music, while people sitting around the sides of the floor aren't so deafened that they have to shout at each other. Moreover, the system delivers excellent bass, so the dancers get a strong rhythm. It may be that the equipment in Canning isn't the best, but it's certainly well organised. The upper register of music is much the same pitch as conversation, and if people can't hear themselves talk because of the high notes, they simply shout louder. As people drink their voices get louder anyway, but this may be less of a problem at Canning, where you might have to wait half the evening for the waiter to deliver your drink!

Some smaller halls in London have built-in speakers which aren't necessarily focused on the dance floor, but so long as the bass is strong and clear the volume doesn't need to be high, and a strong bass conflicts less with conversation. It tends to be larger venues that are more difficult to organise for good sound.

Between milongas

At Tate Modern: Gauguin's mask-like faces; masks, idols. Faces dream, rarely look you in the eye, even in the Brittany paintings. More similarity between Brittany and Tahiti than I'd imagined: different clothing. & animals constantly, dogs, lizards, birds, horses. The other. And riders on horses, suggesting the transitory, passing through. These days a rider on a horse suggests affluence: it's different. But Gaugin seems to set up an environment in which a horse and rider seem to be passing through the present, from and into the unknown. Polychrome wooden bas reliefs and paintings: similar lack of depth, animated by colour. The marvelous, massive carving for the entrance to his house, where he was to die, 'Maison de Jouir' carved large on the lintel, and at ground level "Soyez mystérieuses" on one side, and "Soyez amoureuses et vous serez heureuses" on the other. And a striking painting in the last room: a youth with his arm around his girl, looking straight out. Nostalgie for youthful love, confronting a feeling of inevitable loss.

Brigid Riley at the National. As Adrian Searle said, you don't look at her paintings, you watch them.

He also commented that they are 'made' by assistants, and it's nonsense that the artist's hand must be there; it's the presence of the artist's mind that matters. Yes, but it's great to visit the exhibition of 20th century drawings at the British Museum and see both the mind and the hand of a good many artists there.

“I believe that in the indeterminacy of drawing, the contingent way that images arrive in the work, lies some kind of model of how we live our lives. The activity of drawing is a way of trying to understand who we are or how we operate in the world. It is in the strangeness of the activity itself that can be detected judgement, ethics and morality.” William Kentridge.

A lot of drawing at the BM, because there's also the show of Egyptian prayers drawn for the dead to use, maps of the afterlife, instructions. Negotiating the wonderfully strange world of the afterlife a bit like logging on, with passwords to remember, and questions to answer correctly. Amazing stuff. This, from 1,200BC, really caught my eye:

Two priests: they carry implements to open the mouth of the mummy, so the spirit can fly out (as a bird). But they are coloured slightly differently, and their bodies are actually interlaced in a way that is physically impossible. Perhaps whoever coloured in the outlines got it wrong, but I took it as deliberate, the artist enjoying the potential of drawing.

1,100 years later they were still making the same images, but all that humour and spirit had gone out of it. The drawing becomes lifeless, crude, dull.

Héctor 'Cachirulo' Pellozo

Here's someone I really look forward to seeing again, Héctor Pellozo. (I always thought he was actually called Héctor Cachirulo!) Seeing him again will mean I'll be climbing the stairs at Maipu 444, and there I hope he'll be, welcoming guests he knows and those he doesn't know too.

It's a great story. The 8 year-old who once sold papers on the trams now runs the Cachirulo milongas, among the best in town. With respect, and a passion for tango: 'You owe respect to the others, to the dance floor, to the people... for me this is essential'. He says he's the good cop and the bad cop: he enthusiastically welcomes anyone dressed well enough to his milongas, but he'll confront anyone dancing without care for other people on the floor, give them their money back, and see them off the premises. The tango floor is not for entertainment, and that's how he's going to keep it.

I just wish there were more of him! I just wish he could open a weekly milonga in London, too. It probably wouldn't survive, but what a treat that would be! The milonga is for dancing tango, and dancing tango is about the expression of love and tenderness. Inexpensive alcohol and cheap entry for non-dancers would get short shrift, as they encourage people to hang out and talk loudly. If you want to amuse yourself there are other places.



Many thanks to Practimilonguero for highlighting Héctor. Without doubt he's one of the really accomplished dancers of his generation, as well as running the best milongas in town, and it's great to hear him talk and in Part 2 to watch him dance. To... Cachirulo – what else?


Here are the codes, displayed in several languages in Cachirulo. 'Respect' occurs four times:

Welcome to the best milonga in Buenos Aires. Tanguero friends, please pay attention.
Here we dance milonguero style tango, and we learn to respect the codes of the milonga.
We dance with a warm, respectful and close embrace.
We follow the line of dance, in a counter-clockwise direction.
We try not to step backwards into the line of dance, always walking forward, as it should be.
We do not lift our feet too much from the floor; this way we avoid hitting other dancers.
We invite women to dance through the classic “Cabeceo del caballero”.
Furthemore, and “very important”, respect is the first card we play in the game of the milonga.
Much to our regret, not respecting these codes will make it impossible to dance in Cachirulo.

Magic tandas

Irene and Man Yung commented on height in dance, something we are all aware of, particularly with partners we've not danced with before. I'm always cautious about dancing with a partner who's taller than me: the embrace might not feel so comfortable, your partner's head completely blocks out your right-hand view, and height changes the centre of gravity. Shorter partners usually have problems trying to sort out how to use their left arm, but I danced once with a truly tiny Argentine woman who'd got that one sorted: she just reached straight up with her left arm and put it around my neck. I don't know if she found it comfortable, but we danced a fast vals tanda as if we were a single entity.

So when I face a partner I don't know and realise she's rather taller than me, I have an apprehensive moment, but the great thing is that without thinking I pull myself up and stand tall. It's too easy for me to start to lean over a shorter partner; uncomfortable for her, and my dance suffers. Not having good natural posture is a problem in tango; maybe not if you dance open embrace, but if you want to dance close you really need good posture. Leandro Palou remarked in class that a lot of the problems people have in tango result from poor posture.

Having a tanda of early Canaro to dance to, the music Martha and Manolo use for canyengue, is always going to help. That relaxed, earthy beat is calm, reassuring and buoyant. It's music that hardly suggests anything elaborate. If you have a fairly empty floor you have space to walk too, and if you happen to have found a partner who responds to all that, it's as if you can do no wrong. A really good dance can stay with you for a long time, and leaves you wondering what made it feel so good.

It's a pity tango dancers sometimes look as if they're trying to be teenagers again. Why? Nothing to be ashamed of in listening to that music and savouring it as you dance. & 'Dance like your partner is your first love, or don't dance at all' as Irene and Man Yung say, reflecting no doubt the views of their Argentine friends! The result can be magic.

Sadly, the main source of that early music, Francisco Canaro: Las Grandes Orquestas del Tango, is currently unavailable.

Tango at the RFH

One of tangocommuter's new year resolutions is to write shorter posts. This is simply practical: time is always short. But this resolution has failed even before the new year begins, and I have to make time to add to what I wrote about the post-xmas milonga at the Festival Hall. There was just one point I wanted to make: it was much too short! Well, it was free, and the music was live, but one single hour just isn't enough for a tango event in the post-xmas period, particularly an event with live music. & it took many of us more than an hour just to get there!

I haven't been in London the last two midwinters, but I think there has been an afternoon milonga of a good length at the RFH, organised possibly from within the tango community. I get the impression that the event this year was organised by the Festival Hall itself, so if you were disappointed by how short it was, it's certainly worth getting in touch with the Royal Festival Hall! & please do! They must already be aware of how popular the event was, both with the considerable number of dancers who turned up, and with a large number of people listening and watching. Surely it's to the advantage of the Hall to have lots of people there enjoying themselves. I think they should have some feedback in case they plan an event next year, although the budget for a three or four-hour free event is likely to be more difficult.

But it was a real pleasure to have live music to dance to. It makes a huge difference: you can never be quite sure how a live 'orquesta' is going to play, how the music will be phrased, what the tempo will be or how it might change. Live music feels alive, and we don't get enough of it. The set was excellent: there was sufficient music in a familiar, traditional 'compas' which was straightforward to dance to, mixed in with some music that was much more of a challenge. Very enjoyable! But too short!

Happy new year - and some bits and pieces

A rather grim-faced picture of Nestor La Vitola has headed my blog for too long. Afraid I have no control over the photo chosen. Time for a change.

A happy new year to everyone who comes across this, and may your best wishes come true in a peaceful and wonderful 2011!

Just back from a post-xmas milonga at the Festival Hall. It's a great space, and one of the best ballroom floors in London. There must have been well over 100 people there to dance – and it lasted just one hour. Well, it was free. So one of my wishes for the new year is at least one decent milonga post-xmas!

Three films to escape into, post-xmas. Talking Heads Stop Making Sense with David Byrne in his massive suit: a great concert, wonderfully filmed. Then the reworking of Sleeping Beauty by the Swedish choreographer Mats Ek, which is funny, constantly inventive, colourful and full of breathtaking full-on dancing. I've got it on an old tape from TV, from the days when UK TV broadcast dance: in fact I discovered over an hour of video dance shorts on the same tape, all experimental film-making and choreography. Nobody would broadcast that here today.

& Flamenco by Carlos Sauros. I have to admit I was very turned off by his Tango which seemed to lack any real substance. I understand he went to BsAs to film Copes and Maria Nieves, but couldn't persuade them to dance together. I know people who think it's marvelous, but it somehow seems to have missed the point. Only the scene of eight-year-olds learning tango in school seemed at all realistic, and I couldn't help wondering about kids of that age being taught tango: it looked like a school exercise, a cultural heritage class, strange. But Flamenco is another story altogether. He got together some of the best flamenco singers, dancers and musicians and provided them with a succession of stages to perform on. I know very little about flamenco except I love the music, and I watch this film again and again. The emotional intensity of it is extraordinary, and the colours are warm throughout. Another great concert for the north-European midwinter.

Curious that Flamenco shows the dance as something the whole community, young and old, are involved in and enjoy, whereas tango solemnly performed by schoolchildren looks incomprehensible to them.

& a new blog on the block. Many thanks to Bora for her wonderful account of a visit to BsAs. This is her first day: a wonderful breathtaking, breathless read. A lot of the blog is taken up with detailed descriptions of classes and technique, but then one uses – well, I use – a blog as a way of keeping track of oneself: I go back to posts from a year or two ago to remind myself of what I was discovering then. Interesting how younger teachers, both European and Argentine, are working on trying to improve the interaction between partners, the mechanics of lead and follow, of the embrace. So long as the musical passion that has sustained tango for so long doesn't get forgotten amidst the details of a recently-elaborated technique. Perhaps it needs to retain some rough edges.

This email arrived recently:

'LES CIGALLES MILONGUERAS in the wonderful south-west of France from 20 to 23 May 2011 in Eauze (Gers). A meeting with a total immersion in Tango: 50 hours of dance on a parquet floor during four days, with first-rate Djs, food and lodging on-site in a 100% Milonguero spirit of sharing. The complete programme soon on our site.' (Which is here.)

The man in black

It's wonderful that Tango and Chaos, Jantango and Irene and Man Yung have done so much to widen our experience of tango tradition by filming the older dancers whose experience goes back to the 1940s and 50s.

Practimilonguero too, with videos made in 'practimilongas' rather than in milongas, that include interviews. This video caught my eye a while back.

The man in black is Nestor La Vitola. In the first 40 seconds he looks quite different from the other dancers. There's a calm assurance about his movement. His posture, like that of so many of his generation, is straight-backed but not in the least stiff, and perfectly balanced. Compared to the other dancers there's something quite formal about his posture. He doesn't look as if he's trying to sink into his partner. Some of this may be through stepping forwards with a straight leg - Cacho Dante's revelation - but how can we learn to get all that right?

The interviews show a pattern. Dancing used to start at neighbourhood dances and family events around the age of 14. The mother is often the teacher. Then at 18, attendance at salons, and close embrace tango. I particularly enjoyed Rodolfo Diperna's story of watching the good dancers and then rushing out into the street with a friend to practice what they'd seen so they didn't forget it. That's how they learned. I imagine they'd have been YouTube addicts if it had been around.

Practimilonguero also made the wonderful interview with Osvaldo and Coca, parts one and two. There's also an interview and dance with Pedro Sanchez. A pity Pedro's interview is short, but many thanks to Practimilonguero for the extended interview with Osvaldo and Coca! Que son fenomenales!

& I wondered who the woman is. Monica Paz visits Europe to teach, and has a website. She was teaching in Brussels in October. It's beginning to seem to me that if you want to meet the older – and younger – traditional dancers from BsAs it's necessary to travel to Europe. There just doesn't seem the interest to get them to the UK.

Here's Monica with Chiche Ruberto; one of my favourite milongas. I notice he dances most of it on his toes, or rather on the balls of his feet. Here's the same milonga with him at Cachirulo with Mirta Tiseyra, which is even more fluent. I like the direct energy of it.

PS> Chiche turned up again three days ago in another of Cachirulo's films, this one from the Tuesday night Cachirulo in El Beso.

Choreographing You

I know 'choreography' isn't a good word in social tango circles: performance of planned, well-rehearsed sequences, danced with great skill and watched by a passive audience, doesn't fit into the free flow of a milonga.

But in the 1960s visual artists and dancers began to see choreography more broadly, looking to renew the sense of the body by intensifying the relation of an 'audience' to the environment, to heighten self-awareness of the body in space and time. Choreographing You (Hayward Gallery, London, till January 12) is about this.

A lot of the show is like a gigantic playground, great fun for physically adventurous and curious people to explore themselves in unexpected physical activities. & at the heart of it, when the fun of tilting platforms, the claustrophobia of enclosed passages, and the effort of negotiating hanging hoops wears off, is a massive archive of dance film, 147 films available to browse. Wide-ranging: among much more, there's film of Jackson Pollock painting, the records of Allan Kaprow's 1960s 'happenings', film of Pina Bausch dancing Cafe Muller, of Trisha Brown improvising a dance/drawing, and of an extraordinary 2½ hour solo performance by La Ribot (I cheated and watched it on fast forward). An archive of film from the 1960s to the present, more than can be watched on a cold London afternoon.

In the end it palls, and it's good to move back to physical engagement with unusual and sometimes challenging environments. If our 'comfort zone' of habitual bodily and mental activities is extended, habitual reserve starts to break down in a way that never happens confronted with a normal exhibition of dance or artwork. It felt cheerful and friendly.

Teteysilvia 2

Silvia's just published another extract from her conversation with Tete here.

You have to scroll down to find the translation: the sense is generally clear, and I think the castellano is fairly straightforward if you need clarification. Tete talks more about the beginnings of salón and the places it was danced, and how it arrived with a time of more relaxed social relations between men and women, this dance in which '...the body is leading, the hands following the body's lead. In this style, so different, the body is fortunate to be able to speak when it comes to dancing'.

Interested to note that the word for an installment is 'una entrega' (i.e., a handing over or delivery).

Teteysilvia

Teteysilvia.blogspot.com is the blog started recently by Silvia Ceriani as the home for her archive of material from the years she danced with 'Tete' Rusconi. She's recently published her second post, the first part of an interview with Tete dating from 2003, covering his recollections of his early years in tango. Like many of his generation, he starts dancing in neighbourhood clubs at the age of 14, where he's seen tango since he was a child. He practices with friends on the street corners, and when he's 18 he can get into the 'confiterias' and salons, where the tango is 'salon', close embrace.

Probably nothing very new here, but there's more to look forward to. Silvia posts the original castellano with an English translation, so posting involves a fair bit of work and doesn't happen regularly. All thanks to Silvia for this.

Tango warmth

Tango commuting seemed unlikely on Thursday morning after what the heavens dumped on us overnight, and I envisaged a weekend keeping myself warm by working my way through all the videos on the Cachirulo site. But within 24 hours a rail route had opened up and, looking at the cold white all around, the long commute to the warmth of tango seemed a great idea.

YouTube might be a surrogate, but it's valuable. Years ago I had a serious back injury, and was given a fortnight off work. It was late June, and aha! I thought; I'll watch Wimbledon. & I couldn't. Why? Every time someone served, my back ached. I wasn't moving, but my muscles were following the movement, and it hurt. A programme on The Dancer's Body by ex-Royal Ballet principal Deborah Bull a year or so later explained that we understand any movement we watch by following it with our own muscles, and so we learn from watching the few videos there are of great dancers whose practice goes back 50 years. Sure we see where they put their feet, but we learn more than that; we get the 'feel' of their dance in our own bodies. If, that is, we think the tango of 50 years ago is still relevant!

(A correction: I said that before long we'll be uploading 3D videos to Youtube but I'm way behind the times: it's been possible to upload 3D content since July 2009, but you need the right glasses to watch it. But we'll have to wait at least a decade for life-sized moving holographic content...)

& the weekend was warm: we came out of the milonga to find the snow had turned to sleety rain. The power of dance! & the Sunday night had it's own wonderful warmth too. Neither night was crowded... OK, I should explain. Few milongas here are ever crowded in the BsAs sense, but give people room here and like children given a big space after being cooped up all winter, they'll run all over it, and bump into each other. So I should say the milongas were quite empty because of the weather, and it was a good opportunity to try to fit new possibilities to the music. It was useful to explore a much more upright walk and to explore the embrace, without having to take constant evasive action. & of course it was very enjoyable! The warmth continued on the late-night journey home between banks of snow, with Tanturi and Fresedo between my ears. & Monday morning? Ah well, Monday...

Cachirulo

Since YouTube began just over five years ago video has become an incredibly valuable resource, thanks to everyone who's made and uploaded videos of the dancers and milongas of BsAs. Videos bye-pass the filter of 'teaching'; not that teaching is necessarily inferior, but video gives an immediate feel of the dance and its environment, the milongas of BsAs. Tangoandchaos was among the first, and over the last year or two Jantango has uploaded videos from the milongas of the city centre, while Irene and Man Yung have recently uploaded a number of videos from the 'Barrio milongas': watch their recent videos of Roberto Segarra. (More in their previous post.) We can now see a wide range of BsAs tango, just in time to acquaint us with that generation of older dancers and the kind of environment they learned and grew up in.

& now Argentines themselves are beginning to upload their own videos of their own milongas. Hector and Norma Cachirulo run the marvelous Cachirulo milonga on Saturday nights at Maipu 444, and also at El Beso on Tuesday nights. Hector's probably the first person you'll meet after you've climbed the stairs, paid at the booth and pushed through the curtain into the milonga itself: you're welcomed with a kiss or a handshake like a long-lost friend, whether you're local or a visitor, and then he'll bustle off to find you somewhere to sit, carrying a spare chair or two over the heads of the dancers if need be.

& I've just discovered that since March they've had their own YouTube channel to which they are uploading their own 'home videos' of the Cachirulo milongas. It's almost too good to be true. There's tango from the best, both on the floor and in 'demonstrations', there's rock, chacarera, and birthday dances from the great and the good, and it all continues to be uploaded regularly. Camera quality isn't great, but the spirit comes over so strongly you can ignore that. Cachirulo is one of the great institutions of BsAs tango today, attracting some of the best dancers, and there's plenty here to dip into and enjoy on these cold dark evenings!

(& watching these videos might just oblige you to try and learn Spanish, spend all your spare time and more in tango, and everything you have on interminable flights south of the equator. & why not? If you like tango it's worth a great deal to step as a guest onto that velvet-smooth floor and join in all night with the music.)

So here's Norma's birthday dance with Hector last June. Eso!

Les Cigalles 2011

MILONGUERA SECOND MAJOR MEETING of CIGALES in Provence each May at TOULON (12/13/14 May 2011) - South of France. (From the YouTube channel of Celine Deveze.)

The website is still being prepared.

PS: Please read the comments: it turns out that Celine Deveze's info is premature, as the dates have not yet been fixed.

Midwinter again...

I was talking recently to a friend I hadn't seen in a milonga for a while: she's lost her job and is struggling to make ends meet on temp work. She can eat for two days on the price of admission to a London milonga. Why does it have to be so expensive, she asked: a nice hall, a class, a bar, an excellent DJ... it all adds up. Why can't we get a private place somewhere, with a CD player and some friends who just want to dance, and bring along our own food and drink if we need it? Indeed, why not?

It might be obvious, but it sounds as if the seven nights of the Nimes midwinter milonga are run on a low-organisation, if not exactly a DIY model, as if the organisers rent the hall, hire Djs and deal with the regulations, and then put an announcement on their website. People turn up with their own food and drink. Since it's midwinter smaller businesses are closed, so I'd guess chocolates and food are brought along for sale by friends, who make some sales and enjoy the party too. It's low-cost too: £42 for seven nights, 7.30 to 3am, with a complementary drink each night. An advantage Nimes has is that it's a small city (around 150,000). The hall would cost more in a big city, but I think there's likely to be a real sense of community. It's natural for people to get together and organise things amongst themselves, and even to help each other: help us out for a few hours and come in for free. I really envy them this, but I don't think it's impossible in London. A regular, informal milonga, friends getting together to dance, might work well.

The other thing that seems obvious about the Nimes midwinter is that it's now well-known: the publicity talks about meeting up again with people, presumably from the previous year, and from other parts of France and Europe. Such a shame travel booked now for this time of year is so costly. It would be worth booking early next winter...

Midwinter

London tango becomes somewhat somnolent at midwinter, and I've been looking around for alternatives. This, from the Milonga de Angel (look for the '12eme grande semaine de Reveillon' button) in the southern French city of Nimes certainly caught my eye:
- - -
The 12th Great Midwinter Week
from Saturday 25 December 2010 to Saturday, January 1, 2011.

Book today at 06 63 90 69 18 (tables reserved in the order of registration).
Entrance: 13€; 11€ for members and 8€ for the under-25s and unemployed. For the whole week €50, or €45 for members.

A warm event that the many friends of Milonga del Angel have shared for 12 years.

At 19:30 each evening, a cocktail will be offered to start the evening in good spirits. You will be able to eat there, and Felix will play videos of Golden age orquestas, so we can dance, eat, and chat with friends we meet up with again...

A traditional Milonga starts at 21h with music by the best current Djs. At midnight, there will be various entertainments, demonstrations of folklore, films, photos and videos ... and the famous pastries or chocolates that we will happily share.

The Great Midwinter Week every year is intimate, friendly, and classy. We enjoy all the precious little dishes that everyone will put together, and taste wines, champagne and hot drinks all night. It will bring together three excellent DJs and various entertainments.

Courses on tango, milonga and folklore will enrich this week for the happiness of those who wish to improve.
- - -
This is my translation, so you're advised to check before you rush off. It sounds too good to be true! A whole week of tango, eating and drinking for midwinter! Increíble! Why can't we do something like that in London?

Another possibility is the 13th Tangomagia festival in Amsterdam, from December 26 to December 30. OK, so we might not fancy workshops by 'Chicho' Frumboli, while Sebastian Arce's workshops on 'Sequences with use of Orbital Dynamics' sounds like rocket science, but there's a big milonga each night and, perhaps even more fun, a daily 'tangocafe' every afternoon for four hours, which costs very little.

The only problem is that transport costs soar at this time of year. 'Cheap' flights cost close to the train fare. By the time you've spent nearly £200 on return fares, plus hotels on top of that, the midnight chocolates might not seem so sweet, while the afternoon tangocafe might start to seem very costly. Why can't we do something like this in London?

Any other suggestions?

Carlos and Rosa Perez

Carlos and Rosa Perez were teaching at Carablanca milonga a few weeks ago, where I filmed them. I can't find a website for them, but there is an interview here.

Here they are dancing to Di Sarli:

Their dance to Poema is here, and to Pugliese (from the live 1985 album 'En el Teatro Colon') here.

I missed the class, but they seemed very genial, warm-hearted and modest.

As good as it gets

I love this! Every now and again a tango video comes along that makes complete sense of everything. If you ever have doubts about tango, how it should be danced, whether you should be doing something else, what it's for, what it's about, here's the complete answer. It just makes sense.



Cumparsita, the last tango, the end of the night. Only a few couples are left on the floor, and the table cloths are being folded away. This is Centro Leonesa, so it could have been the Nino Bien milonga. Adela Galeazzi and Santiago Cantenys are dancing. They have as much space as they can use, but they aren't dancing a demo and only the camera is watching: they are dancing just for themselves. It's the last dance of the night, they've been on their feet for hours, but there's no romantic softening or slowing down about it: their dance is full-on and filled with the energy of the music, as intense as if it were the first tango of the evening. In effect it says: if you dance tango, do it full on. Put all the meat on the grill every time; no half measures.

Her feet are wonderfully fast and precise: she marks time with her feet, but there are no superfluous, fussy ornaments that get in the way of the dance as a whole, and there's nothing ostentatious about his posture or his dance. They aren't 'old generation' (although they aren't exactly young, either) but this must be about as good as it gets. I love this. It's the fluent dance of a couple who dance a lot together.

& it was her birthday. At least, according to Irene and Man Yung's blog, where I first saw it. OK, so I'm copying them, but at least I'll be able to watch it every time I open Tangocommuter, and anyway, they're in BsAs right now, too busy to notice, I hope! And they mention Adela's site: worth keeping an eye on.

And when I checked out Adela's site I found this: a video of Adela and Santiago joined by Elba Biscay. I linked a video of the three of them dancing together a while back, and I think this one is even better. If that's possible.

A German theme

There's been a German theme recently. I was honoured to host the interview with Melina Sedo, which was very interesting and illuminating.

I watched Over your Cities Grass will Grow, a film by Sophie Fiennes (who is English, sister of Ralph), watching German artist Anselm Kiefer, who grew up in the ruins of post-war Germany, at work. Offered an extensive property by the French government, he developed a landscape of his own work, as well as a studio and library. Erudite, but also at home melting a vat of lead with a large blow-torch, or creating a mound of broken plate glass around a sculpture, a huge book made of lead. Everything is physical and on a huge scale: heavy lifting gear is needed to move the paintings. When you see the works in a gallery they can be massive, but always look refined and poetic, informed by layers of allusion. The film is still showing in London.

& I saw the Pina Bausch company in Iphigenia in Tauris, a dance set to the 18th century opera by the German composer Gluck: the 18th century, the best century for opera! Stunning: a full orchestra, a chorus of 24 soloists and singers on the sides of the stage, with the dance on-stage. To obtain a fair wind to sail to sack the innocent city of Troy, Agamemnon sacrifices his daughter, Iphigenia. When he returns home, his wife murders him to avenge her daughter, and his son, Orestes, murders her to avenge his father, and exits pursued by Furies. Of course, none of this happens onstage. In Euripedes' version, the goddess has saved Iphigenia from sacrifice, but doesn't inform her family. We meet Iphigenia some years later, and there's a sense that we are in the land of the dead. The mad Orestes turns up, and brother and sister recognise each other: it's hardly a resolution. But the music and the dance are beautiful.

& German film-maker Wim Wenders is completing a film on the work of Pina Bausch – filmed entirely in 3D. He says that 3D can show dance with an immediacy never possible in 2D. This seems to be the future: one day soon we'll upload our 3D vids to YouTube, and watch them in 3D. It won't be long now.



Jericho: Anselm Kiefer at the RA Summer Exhibition 2010.

Interview with Melina Sedó: Part III

Here's the final part of Cassiel's interview with Melina Sedó. The original German of this part is here. Melina Sedó and Detlef Engel's website is here, and their tangokombinat website is here. Their YouTube channel is here. Cassiel's blog (in German, but with a Googletranslate link) is here.

____________________________________________________________________

Cassiel: Next is one thing, that I always notice, and I’m including myself in my observations: how can lessons build up a leader’s self confidence? This is pretty key issue for me.

Melina Sedó: Another difficult topic. Lots of people, especially those from northern countries, lack self confidence in dealing with others. This shows up right away in Tango as postural problems and hesitation. It might appear at first glance to be a typical problem for men/leaders, but women/followers are often too submissive or passive. There is limited scope for a teacher to address these issues in a group class, but we have, on occasion, managed to uncover the proud and communicative Tanguero hiding in the shy mouse or bad-tempered loner. It takes lots of individual attention, which you can only get in private lessons. We have spent entire privates, just talking, rather than dancing. In our usual group lessons, we use pictures and stories to get our approach across: we suggest dancers visualise themselves as kings, queens, Hollywood stars or opera singers, on the red carpet. We encourage them to exaggerate so that there is some residual left over in their dance, to allow this internal feeling to influence their outer form.

We continually emphasise that Tango is a partner dance, and that it is based on an equality of the partners; that both partners are equally responsible for the process of communication and for being active in the dance. In the past, old concepts pushed men into an over-dominant 'leader' role, who pushed the follower around and was always at fault for anything that went wrong. Women were supposed to be passive dollies, whose role was to stay in front of the leader and to maintain the embrace. That doesn’t really work, it leads to rough dancing, and just forces many educated Europeans into artificial roles which have nothing to do with their usual ways of being. This puts them under stress and holds them back from fully experiencing the richness that Tango has to offer.

My thesis, on 'Gender roles in Tango Argentino' demonstrates that the ideal male partner is not the classic dominant macho figure, but a more androgynous dancer, who knows how to be clear about what he wants, but has enough empathy to also recognise what his partner wants, and to respect what she wants from the dance. Any women who can survive and thrive in the world of Tango, will step up to their partner, and express what they want in their dance. There is certainly no room for shrinking violets.

In our classes, we take into account this modern understanding of roles, and have produced a closed loop communication system; the leader indicates a movement, waits for a response from the follower, and then follows that response. This might sound a tad esoteric, but is firmly grounded in simple, technical, biomechanical laws, more specifically on circular motion, on which we base our whole dance. More details are beyond the scope of this interview, the point is that good technique clears up lots of issues with self confidence.

Cassiel: A more personal question: I tend to hold back a bit, perhaps be inhibited is a more accurate description, with double time steps. Perhaps it's for fear that I might run my partner over. So I tend to avoid using double time, what would you suggest to help with that?

Melina Sedó: Ha! That‘s a great example of what I said: good technique builds self-esteem. I hope the readers don‘t get the impression that that question was just a set up.

Cassiel: Hmm, even if I'm not particularly macho, my basic strategy when things go wrong, is that it's all the leader’s fault.

Melina Sedó: That’s just b*******. There are loads of mistakes that followers can make. If that wasn’t the case, they would hardly need lessons, would they? But to get back to your question, we use the body’s natural movement, counter body rotation, to prepare for each step, forward or back, in parallel. This means that you have an additional channel of communication, which allows you to propose a movement, which your partner will have plenty of time to respond to. If all you do is push faster, all you get will be bigger strides and heated looks from the follower. Have a look at our teaching video:



[In French. MsH has a translation on her blog: it's here.]

This is just one part of our summary of a five day workshop in Tarbes, which illustrates some of our concepts. The counter body movement comes towards the end of the clip. And there is even more on that in our classes.

Cassiel: What are your views on short teaching videos, even YouTube videos?

Melina Sedó: Well, any talented, educated person can learn some things from well-made videos, even short clips on Youtube, so long as the person can process visual input well. Naturally, this method of learning will lack any sort of feedback and subsequent correction, which many people require in order to learn, especially if they don't have a good sense of their own procipriation or are beginners. Even a good video is no substitute for a good lesson, though it could well be better than a bad lesson. We looked after a practice group in New York, using a mixture of video and written instructions. They wanted further instruction in our approach and there was no one around who could help them. It is possible, if you really have no other options.

Cassiel: And the inevitable question: are you a tango addict? What is your score?

Melina Sedó: 248: 31 Milongas, 8 of 19 possible 'yes' answers. ***

My high risk of addiction to tango comes from the number of milongas I attend, though they are almost exclusively for business purposes. In the past twelve weeks I've probably visited a milonga just for fun four times. I tend to dance very little at milongas, apart from demos, because I so seldom get asked to dance or because I‘m just too tired after teaching all day. Sadly, that’s what comes of making my hobby into my job; nowadays I seldom get a chance to really dance. It‘s a pity, but it‘s bound to change again in future.

Cassiel: Dear Melina, thank you so very much for taking the time for us. What do you want to add, the last words should be your own. What do you wish for, for Tango?

Melina Sedó: For myself, I wish that Tango stays with me till I'm really very old indeed and that I never lose my pleasure in it. And for the Tango itself, I hope it grows and prospers, rather than stagnating and that it provides pleasure for ever more people. We mostly covered issues in development and education in this interview. We shouldn’t forget, how many people find something positive for themselves at classes, or at a milonga.

Tango can make us feel happy and satisfied.

[*** Cassiel refers to his 'test for addiction', which is to be found here.]

Melina Sedó and Detlef Engel dancing

I've also been meaning to post some links to Melina and Detlef dancing. Here they are dancing in Salon Canning. As far as I'm aware, very few visiting couples ever get to dance solo at any of the main traditional milongas in Buenos Aires.



& here are two recent videos: to D'Arienzo and Di Sarli, both at the Autumn Tango in Eton, UK.

Interview with Melina Sedó: Part II

Many apologies for not getting Part II of Tricia Bruce's translation of Cassiel's interview with Melina Sedó onto Tangocommuter for almost a week. I've just been very busy with non-tango stuff. It happens.

Once again, Melina Sedó is to be found here, and Cassiel's original German version is on his blog, here. If you have any comments or questions, do leave them as comments, and Melina will answer you.

Tango teaching is very new: none of the acknowledged 'milonguero' dancers ever went to classes - the very idea seems ludicrous. Before the current interest in tango, there was very little organised teaching, so the best way to teach a lot of people in the context of a culture in which tango isn't mainstream might not be obvious. These days, most teachers decide to teach 'steps': repeatable patterns of foot and body movements. It's a mechanical approach: it is necessary to some extent, but perhaps rather misses the point of tango. Melina and Detlef's approach, starting from musicality and improvisation, and encountering 'steps' as examples, rather than as the dance itself, might be a better way to encounter the world steeped in tango music of BsAs 70 years ago, in which those we call 'milonguero' grew up.

- - - -

Cassiel: Let's turn to another typical Tango situation, which has a similar scope for causing issues, albeit with completely different causes. Take any workshop at any festival. How do you agree the topic, or theme? What are the typical issues you find amongst the participants? How do you address them?

Melina Sedó: Well, that’s another whole heap of questions in one. I’ll start with how we agree the theme. We send out our list of workshop themes, which comes sorted in priority order, with Fundamentals, Improvisation and Musicality right at the top. We don’t do workshops which just cover steps, or figures. Steps tend only to crop up at the end of our workshops, as examples, or when we are working on improvisation.

We also rule out lots of potential themes; we never teach ways of moving that are not suitable for the Salon, or which require breaking the embrace. Any organiser who just wants us to teach figures, and who isn’t interested in our work on fundaments, would probably be better off engaging other teachers. There are plenty of other teaches who are prepared to do just that.

This does tend to mean we exchange lots of emails before an agreed theme finally emerges. Naturally there are always organisers who want to cram everything in to a weekend, and those who are looking for the latest Nuevo figures. My job then becomes, to tie it all down to something do-able, which plays to our strengths and so that anyone who attends all the workshops can see how the material covered in each workshop builds on all the previous ones. Typical Themes include:

• Walking in the embrace
• Walking with elegant variations
• Improvisation with pivots, ochos and linear turns
• Savouring Tango: Discovering Tango danced slowly, with savour
• Elegant variations of the cross
• Tango Milongero: improvisation around the ocho-cortado
• Salon Survival Guide
• Musicality: Expression and dynamics of movement
• Musicality: Rhythm & Melody
• Vals - the music

The trickiest question for us is always about different levels. Many organisers expect each workshop proposal to come with an indication of what level of experience is required to attend. We don’t really have any regular concept of levels of experience required; only occasionally do we have to set out a level of experience required to attend. Generally, we just announce the themes and let each couple decide whether they are ready for that theme. We tend to find couples in our workshops have a very wide range of experience, from beginners to professionals. This really isn’t an issue for us; in each workshop we start with the basics and build up from there. At each point in the workshop, each pair can decide whether to accept more input or continue to work on the material that they have so far.

Take, for example, our workshop on elegant variations on the ocho. We start with the axis, techniques for pivoting, ochos as a combination of steps and pivots, communicating a simple ocho (forwards and backwards) in couples, one or two examples of using ochos followed by musical variations. So, a beginner couple can stick with the simple ochos, while more advanced couples explore further possibilities to apply these techniques. Couples who come to our lessons are seldom looking for advice on more figures, it’s not unusual that we would work with the more advanced couples on details of communication and technique which they have discovered for themselves within this workshop format. This means that everyone can learn at their own pace, and take responsibility for their own learning. If everyone in the workshop appears to be struggling with the material, then we can refocus on a subset of the material, or even change the focus entirely.

Interview with Melina Sedó: part I

I got a surprise email from Cassiel, a German tango blogger, asking me if I would be willing to post on Tangocommuter a translation of his interviews with Melina Sedó. Not only willing, but absolutely delighted! Melina Sedó and Detlef Engel are known as among the very best European teachers and dancers. Moreover, they are kept extremely busy: I read that their schedule for 2011 is already booked solid. This is wonderful news because it means that a serious, large tango community that values an elegant, musical, close-embrace tango is beginning to develop in Europe.

The interview is in three parts, of which this is the first. The rest will follow over the next few weeks. The German version of Part I is here. Translation, many thanks to Tricia Bruce.

* * * *

Today’s interviewee needs no introduction from me. Melina Sedó & her partner Detlef Engel are internationally recognised Tango teachers. On 2nd Sept 2010, Melina spent over three hours talking to me though the medium of Skype.

We agreed to focus on “Teaching Tango”. The interview is divided into three sections:-
1. Introduction and teaching Tango to beginners
2. Workshops, such as those held at Festivals
3. The role of self confidence in Tango

Melina & Detlef live in Saarbrücken, Germany, when they are not travelling on behalf of Tango

This article is an accurate record of our conversation, with very light editing from Melina. The original text was published in three parts on http://tangoplauderei.blogspot.com/2010/10/melina-sedo-zur-didaktik-im-tango.html in German. This version was translated by Tricia Bruce, with kind permission of Melina Sedo & Cassiel.

For convenience and economy throughout the English text, “he” and “his” is used to refer to both men and woman.

____________________________________________________________________
Part A

Cassiel: Hello, Melina, it’s great to finally get some time with you. Shall we just plunge straight in?

As I prepared for this interview, I wondered how best to describe you. Not that we would need to, but I’m still interested. Tanguera? DJ? Tango-teacher? Tango professional? All these are accurate, but scarcely sufficient. How would you describe yourself?

Melina Sedó: Hi Cassiel. Thank you for inviting me to this interview. In Tango, I do all those roles, but I would describe myself principally as a Tango teacher and organiser. Although, of course, at the moment, the hours I spend on organisation, preparation, travel planning and marketing, bookkeeping and contact management far outweigh the hours spent teaching. ;-) In my heart, I’d say just Tanguera, but these days I just don’t get enough time.

Cassiel: Just roughly, then, how many hours do you spend on average on Tango each week. (Can you even give us any kind of rough idea?)

Melina Sedó: well, for me, all the organising counts as Tango. Most weeks, we spend two full working days in a car, train or airplane, travelling for Tango; I’d probably say six days a week, and sometimes, those are very long days, morning to evening, and long into the night.

Cassiel: Is Tango still fun, for you, after so many, such intensive years? Or do you find yourself tiring of the intensity?

Melina Sedó: The dance is still fun, as is teaching, DJ-ing, organising. But, of course, I’m often pretty exhausted, and, above all, tired of the constant travelling. I would love to spend more time at home, but, at the moment, that just isn’t possible. And when we do get a free weekend, it’s not unusual for us to hit the road again, to visit another festival, just for fun. And yes, nowadays, that doesn’t happen much, simply because we just don’t get that many free weekends. There’s no doubt about it, that it’s a huge challenge and not something that I see myself doing for ever, certainly not at this current level of intensity.

Cassiel: How do you relax, do you get any time for hobbies?

Melina Sedó: My favourite hobby is to lie on my sofa and read a book. Or watch some DVDs in the evening. When I can find the time and energy, I love historical fantasy role playing with my friends. I’ve also just started a University distance learning course, which is bound to take many, many years.

Cassiel: Distance learning? What are you reading?

Melina Sedó: A Masters in Modern European History and Literature, which I’ve always wanted to study.

Cassiel: That sounds very interesting, but we’ve got to leave that there and turn to Tango. We agreed that this interview would focus on “Teaching Tango” We had to choose a focus, or I would have needed days for this interview. Would you like to start with a definition, or shall I get started on my questions?

Melina Sedó: Well, it’s very sensible to narrow the focus, because I enjoy writing and will produce lots. We don’t want to bore your readers, so let’s get going with your first question.

Anibal Arias

A brief note to point to Jantango's post on Anibal Arias, who died recently. She draws attention to his album, La Guitarra Romantica del Tango, which is available here as a download from Digital7, and can be listened to on Spotify.com. I think it's wonderful solo guitar playing, and all the tracks are tango favourites. A great musician, sadly little known outside the tango world.

Leaders and followers?

In the BBC Argentina programme Ignacio Varchausky says something that I found quite curious. He made a number of very interesting remarks, and this one really struck me: '...we have so many outstanding individuals (in Argentina) but as a whole we don't do great as a society, and I think that has to do with the identity issue...'

Tango music has always struck me as very lacking in any kind of 'star' cult. If you didn't already know, would you be able to guess, from the music, which instrument Fresedo, or Miguel Calo, or Lucio Demare played? We all know that Pugliese played piano, but could you guess that from the music? The piano is always there, if you listen, but it only predominates for brief passages. Listening to his music, you might perhaps guess that Troilo played bandoneon, but perhaps only because his phrases are so distinctive, so different from the rest of his orquesta. The ensemble is what seems to matter above the individual: the individual voices are very meticulously balanced so no one voice, no matter whose it is, seems to predominate. Contrast this with jazz: when you listen to the Dizzy Gillespie Allstars there's little doubt that Dizzy Gillespie plays trumpet, and the same is probably true for most jazz bands and orchestras. Kind of Blue? If you didn't already know, you might wonder if Miles Davis played trumpet or sax, but the group is generally there to accompany: to duel with the leader on occasions, but usually to play something of a subordinate role.

Perhaps many outstanding musicians have made a remarkably harmonious society in the orquestas of tango.