On Argentine Tango

In December 2003, National Geographic did a feature on Argentine Tango. I didn't read the article then, but only a few months ago when I found an old copy on Yahoo auctions (I also got from the same seller an issue about volcanoes in Hawaii). The photo spread is wonderful and the writer discusses the tango scene, the history of tango, its music, the way tango has helped Argentines cope with the depressed economy. Online, there're a few more goodies like photos that didn't make it to the magainze pagegs and a presentation narrated by the photographer, Pablo Corral Vega, who made five trips to Argentina to capture these scenes of Buenos Aires and its tango salons.

Argentine tango is what tangueros and tangueras (folks who are mad about tango) call the true tango. The real tango isn't the ballroom or American tango that you often think of when you hear the word "tango." Argentine tango isn't choreographed but improvised on the dance floor; it's a social dance, not really something you watch on stage (there are tango performances though, they're just not the same as ballroom tango demonstrations); nobody cocks their heads or puts roses in their mouths. The tango you've seen in movies like Scent of a woman and True Lies isn't Argentine tango either, but American or to put it crudely, "bastardized" tango.

I suppose my relationship with tango began with music first. I listened to Astor Piazzolla a lot (and even then his music isn't for dancing but listening) because I loved the melancholy in it. Eventually, a musician friend persuaded me to learn the dance itself. After all, Michigan offered courses and at a great deal too - $10 for eight lessons. After my second lesson, I stayed behind for practica (practice sessions for dancers of all levels) and danced with leaders who knew what they were doing. For a follower, being in the arms of a great leader who makes you feel and look good on the dance floor is almost tango heaven. That's when I truly fell for tango (or rather, as many say, that's when tango chose me). I still loved Piazzolla but my ears began to crave more danceable tango music. And that's when I discovered Carlos Gardel, whom the Argentines claim is the main man who defined tango and tango music.

Above all social dances, tango is special because of its history; its music (there are thousands and thousands of songs composed specifically for tango); its strong ties to a city and culture; the exquisite emotions that accompany it (joy, sorrow, pain, nostalgia); the mutual surrender between two people during a three-minute dance; the mystery; the conversation between two people whose sole language is the embrace; and how it makes you remember acutely or forget blissfully. (And one more - the shoes.)

A lot of people say tango is the vertical expression of a horizontal desire (badly paraphrased). But those in the know understand that tango goes by a different set of rules. Sure you surrender yourself to your partner on the floor and have a private, intimate thing going on, but that's all it is. You may never exchange more than two words, and in fact, may be completely wrong for each other off the floor. At milongas (tango parties), many of your favorite dancers are really your pals or even instructors. Earlier, someone expressed shock and concern for me when I said I was learning tango, and I borrowed my explanation from more expert tangueros, Teo and Marsha Bartek:

"Tango is a social dance, and it is a means to express aspects of one's individuality that we usually don't have the opportunity to express in daily life. You have a social venue where you can create a dream world, where you play a role you don't usually have the opportunity to play.

The vast majority of dancers know and understand the unspoken rule that we are all doing this for fun. We understand that when a man asks a woman to dance, he is not making a sexual advance, and he is not necessarily interested in her in any way except as a dance partner.

In tango we agree on a different set of rules, so that we can interact, play, dance, flirt and have a lot of man-woman social fun without it having to mean anything more than what it is - fun playing in the moment. We are just having a good time with no judgments, no attachments, no goal, and no agenda.

Tango is a place for male-female interaction. This "game" between men and women is going on BIG TIME at milongas. Women can express the alluring, sexy aspects of their personalities - wearing sexy clothes, fishnets, high heels, slit skirts - without it meaning anything. It is perfectly acceptable in this arena. Men can play a male role, suave and debonair without feeling uncomfortable and out of place.

In our culture, intimacy is not prevalent in society. Men and women rarely hug or kiss or touch. And we remain a polite distance away from each other. In our culture we usually find intimacy only in sexual interactions. That is why intimacy of any kind is automatically associated with sex. That is why we automatically associate the intimacy in tango with sexual intimacy. We don't realize that intimacy can and does exist without sexuality. Newcomers to tango are often disoriented when they first experience tango. They are amazed that they can be so close to someone while dancing, and then have it mean nothing once the dance is over. But it is true. This is the truth of tango.

The intimate feeling that is an integral part of tango is exactly what attracted us to the dance in the first place. We want to feel like human beings. We yearn to be whole beings, able to think deeply and to feel deeply. We want to go beyond the confines of our particular culture."

Posted by Monoceros at June 4, 2006 12:01 AM