Sunday morning Tate Modern, Juan Munoz. After Louise B, a hard act to follow. An evening with LB would be unpredictable, exciting, scary. Munoz' presence is gentler, calmer, but subtly unsettling, almost a rational, logical presence. Like LB he draws on memories and childhood -- the balconies, the drum -- drawing out their resonances. Strange tableaux. But nothing here quite lived up to Double Bind in the Turbine Hall a few years back. Figures reduced in scale and seen from a distance disturb out sense of distance -- are they full-sized, but further away? -- but when we are close to them, as in the room of 100 figures, they are just reduced in scale. In the Double Bind they were above and unapproachable in a strange 3D labyrinth. And large-scale pieces take a lot of space. Perhaps that's significant, but I wondered how many paintings could have fitted in there? LB's show crammed in much more work -- but then she's lived more than twice as long as Munoz.

All that seen while still enveloped in a very special Crypt night on Saturday. I'd taken a room so I could stay late, and it was a quiet night at the Crypt. It makes a big difference when, as a leader, I'm not constantly having to adjust for a lot of other people around. It was relaxed, easy going, which meant it was possible to concentrate on refining things I know and trying to use moves I haven't had a chance to practice much. But above all it was a very warm, affectionate evening. Tango is great when there's an emotional and physical contact, and somewhat meaningless without both. It's historical development from being a dance of desire to a dance of pleasure, affection, a shared temporary intimacy that displaces and refines desire.