What's New
Calendar
Labels
Search This Blog
Saturday
Caroline & Christopher Summarize Workshops
Sunday
Comme-il-faut - the life of a tango shoe (1)

May I introduce myself? I was born in Argentina from the noble leather of bulls of the pampa, and according to the Argentine custom that only European things are considered dignified, I was called Comme-il-faut. I'm a tango shoe. Exceptionally hot-blooded with a fatal, red-shimmering high heel, two ankle fixings with a little diamond clasp and a toe strap of red laces on beige leather.
From the first moment on, when opened the bands of my satin bag with her red finger nails, and when she balanced me knowingly on the palm of her hands, I fell in love with her. And when she put me on, forced her sweet rosy feet in my leather, fixed the straps around her slender ankle and carefully closed the diamond clasp, I suddenly knew: we belong to each other. For now and always.
We start every day together. In the morning, after the shower, she takes me off the shelf and puts me on to practice the first steps of the day in front of the mirror. And
even if the endless repetitions of ochos, cruzadas and turns are soooo boring to me - I'm a dignified tango shoe and not a working boot, remember? - I am proud to be indispensable to her. Almost every evening, we go out. Usually, a long time before we leave, I tremble with joy, and when she finally releases me from my satin cocoon and straps me over her feet in fishnet ties, I could die out of sheer happiness. A night, a whole night, just for us. Well? not for us exclusively, because we also dance with other shoes.The ones I like best are two tiny velvet slippers, which are worn by a girl friend of
hers. Most of the time, they share a vals, close embrace. I wonder whether she likes being led by a woman? I, in any event, am totally thrilled by the softness of those shoes. Energetically, but without any jerking or dragging, no knee-climbing or ankle-drags the softly glide over the dance floor. And when they jam me between them, the velvety texture caresses me softly? that's what I like.Whenever they play Piazzolla, red suede leather boots chase me over the dance floor. Turn - quebrada. Four or five hasty steps - and a boleo. Gancho to the left, kick in the middle, gancho to the left. Maybe that is his interpretation of the music, but even a shoe has feelings. And this dragging, stopping, ripping makes me lose control and drives me totally crazy, nuts, tango-gaga. And her, too. Only I feel her trembling, and transpiring a little between her toes. She must be so glad when the tanda ends.
Before every milonga tanda, a pair of black lacquer shoes with white border stop in front of me. Silly, so
much varnish - a little bit is elegant, but this sparkling is really importunate, and likewise is what those shoes request of me. Permanently I am to tip on the floor, bounce back, tipple, click with the heel and much more. I'm no sissy, really, but this is too much. Last time, I hurt the shoe with a big scratch, right in front. That's what he gets out of it, a scratched face. It's won't be soon that he comes back to us for a dance?.Sometimes, a golden puma sneaker stops me, usually when we listen to electrotango. And I am to jump over it. What a shame for a classical tango shoe! Does he ever think about my heel? I could severely hurt myself when landing! And then, those rollercoaster-swings - boleos, they're
called - I'm getting sick! But I know she loves such plays? and when she is really happy, she curls her leg round his hips so that my heel is close to his thigh and I can see the world from above. This calms me down, usually?. Very late, shortly before the end of the milonga, an unostentatious Werner Kern comes round. Pretty much rubbed off, no longer black but rather grey, heel resoled several times. I like that shoe. Sometimes, it glides around my red lace top, caresses softly her foot, even up to her ankle. And then she moans softly. I think she likes it, too, that shoe. Perhaps even the foot which goes with it. I can't tell exactly, because every time these shoes walk us home, I am to spend the night in my bag.(1) Found on Ed Loomis' Newsletter
Wednesday
Mi Buenos Aires Querido (1934)
Carlos Gardel (1887-1935) is revered as one of the greatest tango singers of all time. For many, Gardel embodies the soul of the tango style that sprang from the barrios of Buenos Aires and Montevideo at the end of the 19th century.
Gardel's life is shrouded in mystery. Although Buenos Aires was his home from childhood, his place of birth is in doubt (most biographers today believe he was born in either Uruguay, or, more likely, Toulouse in France). He made hundreds of recordings of tango songs during Argentina's "golden age" of prosperity in the 1930's, when it was one of the world's richest countries.
When Gardel died in a plane crash over Colombia in 1935, at the height of his career, millions of his fans went into mourning. Today, a popular saying in Latin America, claims that "Gardel sings better every day."
Gardel, likely born in France, came to symbolize the longing and sentiments that characterized the European immigrants' life in Argentina.
Notes:
Some words in this tango are difficult to translate.
Pebeta is a lunfardo word which means something like "babe".
Buenos Aires is often called "la ciudad porteña" or the "port city", and its people are known as "porteños".
The "arrabal" refers to the working-class suburbs of Buenos Aires, on the frontier between the city and the pampas, where tango was probably born.
A bandoneón is that funny-sounding accordion instrument that you hear when tango is played
Sunday
Dancing All the Dances as Long as I Can by Robert Fulghum
Navigate to NPR to listen to Robert Fulghum read his essay.
Robert Fulghum has written seven bestsellers including All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. A native of Waco, Texas, he was a Unitarian minister for 22 years and taught painting and philosophy. Fulghum lives in Seattle and Crete.
“My passion for tango disguises a fearfulness. I fear the shrinking of life that goes with aging.”
Weekend Edition Sunday, October 28, 2007 · I believe in dancing.
I believe it is in my nature to dance by virtue of the beat of my heart, the pulse of my blood and the music in my mind. So I dance daily.
The seldom-used dining room of my house is now an often-used ballroom — an open space with a hardwood floor, stereo and a disco ball. The CD-changer has six discs at the ready: waltz, swing, country, rock 'n' roll, salsa and tango.
Each morning when I walk through the house on the way to make coffee, I turn on the music, hit the "shuffle" button and it's Dance Time! I dance alone to whatever is playing. It's a form of existential aerobics, a moving meditation.
Tango is a recent enthusiasm. It's a complex and difficult dance, so I'm up to three lessons a week, three nights out dancing, and I'm off to Buenos Aires for three months of immersion in tango culture.
The first time I went tango dancing I was too intimidated to get out on the floor. I remembered another time I had stayed on the sidelines, when the dancing began after a village wedding on the Greek island of Crete. The fancy footwork confused me. "Don't make a fool of yourself," I thought. "Just watch."
Reading my mind, an older woman dropped out of the dance, sat down beside me, and said, "If you join the dancing, you will feel foolish. If you do not, you will also feel foolish. So, why not dance?"
And, she said she had a secret for me. She whispered, "If you do not dance, we will know you are a fool. But if you dance, we will think well of you for trying."
Recalling her wise words, I took up the challenge of tango.
A friend asked me if my tango-mania wasn't a little ambitious. "Tango? At your age? You must be out of your mind!"
On the contrary: It's a deeply pondered decision. My passion for tango disguises a fearfulness. I fear the shrinking of life that goes with aging. I fear the boredom that comes with not learning and not taking chances. I fear the dying that goes on inside you when you leave the game of life to wait in the final checkout line.
I seek the sharp, scary pleasure that comes from beginning something new — that calls on all my resources and challenges my mind, my body and my spirit, all at once.
My goal now is to dance all the dances as long as I can, and then to sit down contented after the last elegant tango some sweet night and pass on because there wasn't another dance left in me.
So, when people say, "Tango? At your age? Have lost your mind?" I answer,
"No, and I don't intend to."
Wednesday
What Level of Tango Dancer Am I?
Friday
Arts Council Newsletter

There is a great interview with Mary Menz in the
Arts Council Newsletter's Feature Article About Tango.
The author has asked has asked us to tell him how the article has been received in our Tango community. Please take a moment to share your thoughts. Just follow this link to the Newsletter post; then click on the "Comment" link at the bottom. Thanks.
Monday
Subtango, The Spirit of Tango
A journey to the Buenos Aires underground tango culture, where the elusive soul of tango is to be found…
Even after a century of history, after enshrinement as the national music, after rampant commercialization and packaging for export, the tango still speaks to the Argentine soul. Subtango shows how tango music, dance, art and poetry are an essential part of the emotional expression of regular people, featuring the gamblers, ramblers and barroom prophets of the Buenos Aires night, playing weather-beaten accordions and singing old tangos of heartbreak and resentment. Through interviews with the citizens of this subterranean world, the film expands on the tango’s lugubrious aesthetic, the origins of its melodramatic lyrics in the laments of alienated immigrants, the sensuality and profound communication of its dance. The film explores the faded old bars where the nightcrawlers of Buenos Aires come to dance and drink amidst the peeling paint and thick clouds of smoke. Subtango is a portrait of that world of tango that lies closest to the true meaning of what tango is in Argentina
Saturday
San Francisco Tango Life
Tuesday
Tango Etiquette
What are the expectations and protocols...?
Disclaimer: These things are guidelines, and there are exceptions to most of them. This list is my personal opinion of proper etiquette. Other dancers will assuredly disagree with some of them.
Though we joke a lot about it, there really is no (at least official) "Tango police" that will eject you for (at least minor) violations of these rules. In fact, a visit to even a single event will show you that there is a lot of flexibility in following them. The importance of whether or not you follow a particular rule depends mostly on how crowded the floor is.
That said, the reality is that Tango is a passionate dance, and there are some moves and steps that have the potential of causing physical injury, including cuts and serious bruises, from flying boleos, for example. Floorcraft guidelines have evolved to prevent the worst of those consequences.
The general idea is for you and your partner to enjoy yourselves, and to allow and facilitate everyone else to be able to enjoy themselves too. Avoiding injury to yourself, your partner, and other dancers is key to that enjoyment.
Apologies if this is long and complicated, but Tango is a complicated dance, with a long history and deep cultural context.
-
Floorcraft at Milongas (as opposed to Practicas, which are listed below):
Floorcraft is the leader's responsibility. There are several facets to it:
-
General Rule: Neither leader nor follower shall kick, nor step on, nor even bump into another dancer. All of the floorcraft rules are designed to fulfill this General Rule.
-
What do you do if you DO bump into anyone? Of if your partner makes contact with anyone? Of if you or your partner are contacted by another dancer when you were not paying attention or were not following the guidelines yourself? You Apologize! You make eye contact at least, to acknowledge the transgression.
-
On my first trip to BsAs, prior to which I had been graciously coached by Steven Harding of Seattle, a most respectful dancer, to be sure, I had an incident of bumping into an old milonguero. There was no immediate eye-contact, but I knew I needed to apologize, so I literally followed him around the dancefloor until I managed to make eye contact and nodded deferentially to signal my apology. The point is that sometimes you have to go out of your way to fulfill your obligation of paying respect. This is not groveling, it is showing respect and common courtesy.
-
-
-
Dance flow is in a direction counter-clockwise around the dancefloor. This is known as "line-of-dance."
-
Never dance clockwise, that is, backwards, or against the line-of-dance. However, a single visit to any but the most crowded milongas will have people violating this rule. Just remember the General Rule, and if you can dance against the line-of-dance without causing collision or traffic jams, then some would say it must be OK. Use common sense. If there's a traffic jam in front of you, and a big space behind you (in line-of-dance), then you can probably get away with going backwards. Just be aware that you're violating protocol, and use the maneuver sparingly.
-
A corollary of this rule has to do with the DBS - the "dreaded back step." Leaders who make back steps while facing line-of-dance are actually stepping backwards, against the line-of-dance. This is a real problem when you don't have eyes in the back of your head. My mother did, and most of my childhood friends' mothers did too, but I've never known a guy who did. So if you haven't just finished executing a turn that gave you visibility to what was behind you, and there is another couple that could take some double-time steps and move up behind you in the path of your back-stepping foot, then either don't step back, or make it a tiny step, and feel for someone else's foot under yours before you fully transfer your weight and break someone's toe.
-
-
Keep the line-of-dance moving. Don't be doing a lot of steps in place without progressing down the line-of-dance, unless of course you are blocked by dancers ahead of you. If a space has opened up in front of you in line-of-dance, move into it. Dance at the same speed as other dancers
-
Stay as far to the outside as you can. This is actually the most strategic place to dance, since no one can get into your "blind spot," which is on your right side where your vision is blocked by your partners head (assuming you're in close embrace.) Stay in single file if you can. At a crowded venue, it will naturally happen that couples will migrate into several "rings" or "lanes" of singe-file dancers. Try not to switch lanes to pass slower couples, unless they appear to be clueless and a traffic jam of dancers is accumulating behind you.
-
When you enter the dancefloor, or if you do pass or change lanes, do it responsibly, like when driving a car and entering a street or freeway - you wait for an opening, and equalize your speed with other drivers/dancers before moving into traffic.
-
Pay attention to other dancers. Note their step patterns and skill level. If a given leader tends to make back steps without looking, keep your distance. If a leader is doing a lot of wild spins and turns, keep your distance. If a leader is leading his follower to make wide leg swings or high boleos, keep your distance. Learn to use tight turns and rock steps to allow checking out traffic behind you.
-
Protect your follower at all times. This is the leader's FIRST priority.
-
Followers:
-
If your leader leads a boleo on a crowded floor, do not assume he knows what he's doing. Keep your feet close to the floor.
-
Do not cause a trip hazard by extending your legs as a dramatic embellishment or in anticipation of a lead.
-
-
-
Floorcraft at Practicas:
-
Many of the floorcraft rules for a milonga are suspended at a practica. You can stop and chat in the middle of the flow, you can totally block traffic, and line-of-dance generally does not exist. However some rules still apply:
-
Pay attention to other dancers.
-
Protect your partner.
-
Avoid kicking, stepping on, or bumping into anyone.
-
-
-
Other Protocols:
-
"La mirada" and "el cabeceo" are the traditional method of inviting and accepting a dance in Argentina. La mirada is "the look," or "the stare," and can be done by either partner. Once eye contact is made, el cabeceo, "the nod" signals the request and is returned as the acceptance. In the US, of course, we're a lot less formal with protocols in general, and it's perfectly OK for either partner to just walk up and ask someone to dance.
-
I've heard that the mirada/cabeceo custom developed in Argentina to allow for "invisible" rejections. This allows the hapless man to avoid being ridiculed by his mates at being publicly turned down for a dance.
-
If you want to dance, however, a key thing to make it work is that you must be scanning the room and making eye contact with people you might like to dance with. A lot of people in Western cultures are not comfortable making eye contact with strangers, but, well, you just have to get over that, especially if you want to dance much when you visit Argentina.
-
-
The custom is to not start dancing immediately when the music starts.
-
I've heard that this practice developed in the early days of tango in Argentina. In those relatively Puritan times, those few moments when a young couple was alone on the dancefloor, before they started dancing, was the only time they could talk without being overheard by the young woman's mother or chaperone.
-
-
After you start dancing, don't talk. Chatting, or teaching, or discussing a step or where someone bought those cute shoes, is frowned upon. Mostly it prevents you from entering that special zone of the Tango Moment, when your entire being is focused on enjoying the music and the embrace of your partner, and it distracts other dancers from doing the same.
-
While you can start dancing anywhere in a song, the protocol is to stop dancing on the last beat of the music. This is one protocol that RARELY gets violated. Of course, it takes some practice and familiarity with the music to stop on the very last beat, so one beat over is OK, but do not go two beats over, even if it means stopping in some awkward position, lest the dreaded Tango Police haul you off.
-
Music is generally played in "tandas" or sets of 2 - 4 songs, then a "cortina" (curtain) is played, a 20-30 second piece of music that is generally not dancable, to signal the end of the tanda.
-
It is customary to dance an entire tanda or two with the same partner (however, see below), then find a new partner during the cortina.
-
Note that not all DJ's at all venues play cortinas. Even in Argentina, some DJ's just play continuous music. Most DJ's, however, both in the US and in Argentina, do use cortinas.
-
-
When you're done dancing with a given partner, for any reason, say, "Thank you." This is the signal that you're done and ready to sit out or find another partner. Regardless how much you might enjoy dancing with someone, avoid thanking them until you're ready to move on, or else you send a mixed message.
-
You don't have to dance with everyone who asks you. And you don't have to continue to the end of a tanda, or even to the end of a song, if you are uncomfortable for any reason. Maybe they're throwing you around, maybe they smell bad, or maybe you're just getting a blister on your foot. Whatever the reason, just stop, explain whatever you want, thank them, and leave the dancefloor.
-
If you've stopped dancing with someone for any reason that might be embarrassing to them if proclaimed publicly, it is sensitive to make up some excuse, like your feet hurt, perhaps feigning fiddling with your shoes to lend credence. The fact is that Argentine culture is very prideful, and, with some truth it is said that "Everyone sees everything on the dancefloor," so if you don't INTEND to embarrass someone for stopping before the end of a song or a tanda, make up a good excuse and make it look genuine.
-
-
Most of the above is for newer dancers. This item, however, is for experienced dancers. The recommendation is for experienced dancers to spend some time dancing with beginners. My favorite dance partner, Jodi Syverson, was ready to quit when she was very new to tango, intimidated by the difficulty of the dance. A fortuitous encouragement from Daniel Trenner when he was here in Portland convinced her to stick with it, and anyone who has danced with her knows the debt they owe Daniel. But the point is that everyone in the dance community benefits from an influx of new dancers. Everyone brings their own specialness to the dance, and the pollination from "new blood" helps the dance grow and evolve. Yet all experienced dancers know the hard work it takes to become proficient, and it's easy to become discouraged and go over to the "dark side" of easier dances like salsa. But sometimes all it takes is a single dance with an experienced leader or follower to encourage a beginner to do that hard work, and well, again, everyone benefits.
-