Lyrics and translations

I have an adapted, borrowed theory. To dance well, you need to have some kind of understanding about the lyrics. Go to any workshop (good or bad) and the Spanish speakers will always extol about the importance of the lyrics in tango. When I attended a workshop with Los Disparis (a good workshop by the way) they spoke of how the tango lyrics were the ordinary man’s poetry and show us his dreams and fears [See my entry on their class here].

My Spanish is pretty basic but I’m trying to make it a habit to get a translation of at least the title of some of my favourite tangos. Obviously, the whole song is ideal but the title is a good starting point. I also think it’s quite important to learn a few words/phrases that come up in a lot of tango songs. I’m starting simple, ‘corazon’ (heart), ‘mi vida’ (my life) ‘penas’ (pain, sorrows) and then sometimes when I’m dancing I’ll hear one of these words sung out over the melody and I’ll suddenly feel something shift inside me as I understand just a little bit more about what I am dancing to and why.

Well that is my theory. I’ve now told it to two leaders on separate occasions and both have argued against it and said that understanding the English version wouldn’t help their dancing in any way (and one even speaks intermediate Spanish). Perhaps you need to have a certain mindset to go with this idea.

NB: If you are interested in finding translations, lyrics and music, then go to Planet Tango (for translations) and Todo Tango for music and lyrics plus articles.

Interesting

There is a tanguero who I meet quite regularly in class but rarely see at a milonga. In class, he generally gets the basics of the move first time. If I’m fortunate enough to be with him at the start, I know I’m in good hands and we can work on ironing out the difficulties straightaway.

The other night I saw him at a milonga and he asked me to dance. I was pleased and expected a pleasant tanda. Unfortunately, I’ve now realised that although this tanguero is good at steps and can easily navigate a studio with 8 couples – take him to a full size dance floor, add a lot of dancers (some of which will inevitably be erratic) and suddenly he goes to pieces. As we ‘bounced’ (ouch!) around the dance floor, I thought ‘Is this the same guy?’ He led steps that we had done in class admirably well, until ‘Bang’ – there goes another couple, that ‘I’ have now hit with my back.

I finally gave up when he stopped quite abruptly in the line of dance and started leading me into Americano with the free leg going forwards and back. One of those erratic couples careered into us and I felt my heel scrape down her ankle! Now it wasn’t entirely our fault (they were heading towards us at speed) but instantly my partner announced that they were in the wrong. As the girl ‘limped’ off the dancefloor, he said, ‘The floorcraft is not great tonight is it?’ and kept on dancing. Maybe not, but what about the limping girl?, I thought. As the last beats ended, I left him to go and apologise to the girl who thankfully did not bite off my head .

So now I know. Keep him in a classroom, avoid him on the dance floor.

The search for 'entrega'

There is a theory that a follower can give herself up entirely to the dance and find a complete connection with her partner. This state is sometimes called ‘entrega’ and means to surrender. Some followers dislike this term as they feel it is describing a situation where you lose all self control and allow the leader to take over. I was interested to read however, that this term comes from the verb ‘entregarse’ a reflexive verb which means not to surrender but to 'choose' to surrender yourself, a subtle but key difference.

For a follower to do this though, she must have trust in her partner. She must believe he will lead her through the dance safely and that she will allow herself to feel the music through him. Trust however, can’t just be expected.

I was dancing with someone not so long ago and he kept leading me into backwards linear boleos. They kept jarring with me. Just as I was relaxing, he’d throw in another. Eventually, I told him that I didn’t like boleos (and especially linear ones) as I was always afraid that I’d kick someone. ‘Relax’, he told me. ‘Trust me’.

I thought this was quite presumptuous. This guy dances well but I’ve not danced with him that much. To assume that I would give him my utter trust after one tango was incorrect. Perhaps I’m too uptight and serious or could this be what distinguishes a good tanguero from a dancer.

There is an interesting piece on 'entrega' on the Tango and Chaos site. It mentions there the trinity that makes up entrega: Man, Woman, Music. All parts have to be equal and this makes perfect sense to me.

Therefore asking me for my trust like a stick of gum is never going to work.

A lady's shoes - an essential tool

I was looking forwards to my class all week. I’d managed to get all my connections perfect and for once I was arriving with a good 10 minutes to walk to the venue from my stop (normally I tend to either arrive ridiculously early or incredibly late!) I’d got out of work on time, had time to go home and get ready etc and then with 30 seconds to go until I was at my stop, I reached into my bag and froze. A panicked thought shot into my brain ‘WHERE WERE MY SHOES???? Please, please tell me I have not just left them at home!!!!’

Well, my options were as follows:

a) Turn up and attempt the class in either socks or boots (great –I’m going to look like the poor orphan girl)

b) Go home and forget about this disaster

c) Dash back home (30 minutes each way) and return with my rogue shoes

d) Console myself by getting a large drink in the nearest pub/bar.

I was sorely tempted by the fourth option but in the end, got off at my stop and turned around to head home. Once home, I sprinted up the stairs and grabbed my shoes, lying languidly by my front door and dashed back into central London. I arrived 1 hour late but thankfully they let me in (incredibly bad manners I know but I’d REALLY been looking forwards to the class).

So I now know that the absolute quickest journey home is 28 minutes and 37 seconds, the quickest time I can sprint up the stairs is 37 seconds and the quickest time to run back to the bus stop is 3 minutes 14 seconds.

In future, i will NOT forget my shoes!

She's back!

No – not me!

This weekend Geraldin Rojas de Paludi and Ezequiel Paludi will be teaching in London at Negracha Tango School/Club. I saw Geraldin last year when she had a flying visit over to London but this time, I’ll actually be attending a few of her classes! I’ll be excited to see what they are like and of course, it will be good to see her and her partner dancing in the flesh again.

See you there!

Negracha details here:

Absence

I’ve been semi-retired from the tango scene for a few months now but am slowly coming back into the fold. Here, however, were the reasons for my (mainly) self-inflicted absence:

1) Too many teachers and workshops – I was confusing myself.

2) An altercation with a tanguera whilst doing tango

3) Getting into a rut and going to the same milongas.

4) Having a private lesson and becoming disillusioned with group classes.

5) Needing to spend quality time in my no-tango life and not just popping in for a flying visit

6) Another new job

7) A holiday!

And now some more details:

1. Too many teachers and workshops

Now I love doing workshops with visiting teachers, especially teachers who I’ve watched avidly on youtube but I ended up doing too many, or perhaps I just did them in too short a time-span? Most were useful in some way and I was given lots of tips on both style and technique but it was too much to take in.

I was dancing and suddenly, I heard this voice in my head saying ‘X says, “Keep your weight forwards slightly but make sure you are not leaning on your partner”; ‘Y says, “Don’t use your right hand as a crux to get you around”; ‘Z says, “Step backwards with long legs, leading from beneath your rib cage”; ‘A says, “Your feet are turned out too far”; ‘B says, “Walk lightly but strongly, don’t clunk”; ‘C says'; etc etc.

I froze mid dance-floor (thank god it was a practica) and just said to my partner, ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t dance at present’. I sat down at the side, paralysed by all of the faults that I could detect in my dance. It was too much. I couldn’t absorb it all and it was messing with my head. I didn’t dance for 2 weeks while I calmed down.

2. An altercation with a fellow tanguera

I hate arguing with people. It’s in my DNA. If there is a collision, I’m always likely to apologise even if it’s not my fault. Ha, well, I was practicing and this tanguera and I clashed heels, literally. I will admit upfront, that I should have thought more about my surroundings but I was too caught up in trying to figure out a step (not a worthy excuse I hold my hand up).

Anyway, we clashed.

I apologised profusely (I felt horrific) and she ‘refused my apology’. She said, ‘That was a ridiculous thing to do and I’m not prepared to accept your apology’. I was distraught and apologised again (and again) but she just kept saying she was not prepared to accept it. Eventually, there was nothing else to do but leave her stewing (people had begun to gather round at this stage – embarrassment all around, the teacher was looking distinctly uncomfortable).

I was really upset, especially as this was the first time I had met/seen this woman. It’s not as if we have a history or I regularly bash into her. I went home and cried. I didn’t dance for 3 weeks.

3. The same milongas, the same people

Sure, you want to dance with your friends but the truth is the London tango scene while active is not gargantuous. You’ll always know someone if you go out but I got stuck into my comfort zone. I was going to the same milongas and dancing with the same people – on a loop. I’d forgotten what it was like when I first started, when I used to alternate between about 6 milongas. Now I was going to 2. I was having more nice, comfortable tandas and less unexpected and interesting tandas. There were less highs.

4. Having a private lesson

I actually had two, with different people. I learnt two important things...

a) First class (with a visiting couple): A private class on the basics, shows you that you haven’t been dancing the basics all this time. You’ve been ‘marking them out’. You understand the subtle nuances and realise that so far, it’s all been imitation.

b) Second class (with a teacher whose lessons I’ve been attending for over a year):You realise exactly how ‘little’ attention teachers merit you with in a group class. Unless, you are having serious trouble, you can easily slip under the radar. I was shocked when the teacher asked me to walk as they said they had never seen me walk before! What?! Do we not spend 10 minutess every week, walking up and down as a warm up? Have I never even merited enough attention in that whole year? All this time, I thought I was not having any comments because I had ‘got it’. Now I was given a list of 100 things that needed to be changed!

I don’t mean this to sound bitter and petulant. I was actually pleased to finally, be getting some constructive criticism but it made me wonder how value-wise the last year has been in terms of time and money. Once you reach a certain level, are you actually getting anything from group classes or should I be saving my cash for private classes?

5. My non tango life

This had been neglected for a while and people were beginning to forget my name. My boyfriend was also starting to suffer from my prolonged absences and so I made a concerted effort to spend more time with him, doing stuff he fancied doing – cinema, pub trips, nights in just relaxing (as opposed to bombarding him with tango videos and music – god I was obsessed!)

6. A new job

Yes, another one. I was the newbie yet again and had to put in some extra hours at the start, learning the ropes and making sure I had intelligent conversation for the project meetings (somehow my Top 10 Tango youtube video list was not going to elevate me to the heights of essential team player).

7. Holiday

Yes, I was away for a few weeks on a holiday which linked in with a huge family reunion. Tango was on the back burner.

Los Dispari - The Walk

Jorge and Marita Dispari were in London recently and teaching a week long series of classes. I attended some and hoped to jot down notes from each class but unfortunately, got distracted/overwhelmed and so therefore only ended up with a few jottings.

These notes came about from their first class which in some ways was probably the most important, focusing on the Walk.

I’m quite reluctant to paraphrase tangueros (especially when they are speaking through translators) but coming back to these notes, I thought that although they don’t explain technique or steps, they might provide an interesting insight into their class.

If anyone can help fill in my gaps, then that would be most helpful.

Lesson 1: The Walk
· To dance tango well, you need both technique and emotion. But technique can never replace emotion.
· Adrian and Amanda Costa [a French tango couple who have been taught by Los Dispari and who many of the TangoSouthLondon students are familiar with] are going to become one of the best tango couples in the world. A major part of this though, will be down to their musicality (most of which they learnt from Jorge). Yet they are not Argentine but French. You do not need to be Argentine to dance tango the best, but you need to find the passion in a small corner of your heart.
· Marita – you should not adapt when dancing with someone tall or short
· Jorge disagrees – he thinks you have to adapt. This means that aesthetically and if you want to be the most elegant, you need to dance with someone similar in height and build.
· But socially and emotionally he adds, your best partner can be of any build.
· Story of El CXXXXXX (????) who was mad for tango and a great friend of theirs. He used to dream of a step and then turn up at J&M’s house and demand to dance with Geraldine their daughter. If she was in school, they had to get her from school so they could try out a new step.
· Now Jorge does that to Marita when they are sleeping in bed. He will wake her up and tell her about a new step and insist they try it.
· A woman will learn in 2 months what it takes a leader 2 years to learn. This is not because it is harder but a woman’s body was made to dance unlike a man’s [from Jorge].
· The weight should not be on a woman’s heel but it should give the illusion that it is. The weight must be on the front of the feet (balls).
· Roberto Rufino was a singer with Carlos Di Sarli’s orchestra and was only 14 when he started singing for him. He was told to turn up at the theatre ready to perform but on his first night, he was very late because the doormen didn’t believe a boy would be singing with Di Sarli and they refused to let him in.
· To dance tango, you should learn to speak a bit of Spanish as otherwise you are missing out on 50% of tango. The other 50% are the instruments.
· You should try to understand the lyrics as they are poetry.
· It is poetry of the everyday though, not high brow.
· The woman should not dance while watching over the shoulder of the man. If she is then the man is not leading her. He should captivate her and draw her into their dance.
· The embrace should be an embrace and not just finger tips. The women should have a little upwards pressure. The man should enclose her.
· Your dancing must have pauses. Actual pauses and not pauses where you shift weight. Actually WAIT.