Tango Teachers-Only Forum?

The question on a for-tango-teachers-only Facebook page was:  "How do you teach a beginner to walk?  What is the first thing that you start with?"  This is an advanced question.  The starting off question for a teachers-only Facebook page might better be:  "What makes a teacher a great teacher?"  Or, "should I really even be a teacher?"

But being a good student, I will try to answer the question about walking, and how to teach it -- but I say this as only as a customer (I am not a teacher):

I practice walking still more than any other thing.  So, I would recommend teaching students  to walk by themselves for a long time and practice it outdoors as often as possible. We give lip service to how walking is taught for years before anything else in Buenos Aires, but then we start with a figure, calling it the "basic step."  Walking is the basic step.

Secondly, I would suggest teaching them to walk in close embrace as much as possible.  Always teaching in open embrace with a partner will inculcate that open is the natural embrace and easier when in fact showing intention is more difficult at the more advanced levels when there is less connection.  

Tip: You can even start with a pillow between body-phobic students (Americans), but teach connectedness!  If they don't want to embrace a stranger, suggest therapy before taking up this wonderful dance.  In therapy they can work out their body issues and perhaps unresolved traumas.  Maybe explain to your students that open embrace is for people who wish to do advanced moves and to dance for others (our best marketing for bringing people to tango).  Closed embrace is to dance for one person -- your partner (a great way for people to STAY with tango).

I will address the more basic question "why I am not a teacher" (some ideas for unqualified teachers) and "what makes a teacher great" (a great business plan for good teachers) in my next posts.  ¿Nos vemos?  ¡Hasta entonces!

Halloween 2010: Witchcraft vs Floorcraft

Halloween WARNING: This post includes some pretty scary things:  The dangers of witchcraft, references to nightmare-inducing mythical creatures, and images of US Marines in a combat zone.

Mythical Creature:
Every village has a its own mythical creature.  Every milonga has someone who stands out in a crowd in the wrong way.  Dressing up cannot hide this creature.  You can identify their distinctive sound:  A bump in the night.  Sometime these creatures are chameleon like.  Sometimes they appear like innocent beginners, but more often they hide in the disguise of "one of the best dancers in the community" costume.  Bump in the nigh reveals who they really are.  (Elvis sang about them: "Whole lota bumping going on.")  The Burro-Mariposa is not like the tooth fairy, this creature really does exist.  The so-called mythical being, the Burro-Mariposa (a donkey-butterfly), has been spotted at many milongas flitting about the dance floor like a butterfly but with a certain amount of weight uncharacteristic to butterflies.  The horror is too much for me to detail further.

Now for the horror of the battlefield:
US Marines are a hard breed of men and women.  But friendly fire is sometimes the biggest danger in combat or the dance floor.  Please do not watch this before bed.



Video clip thanks to by Alex:  http://www.alextangofuego.blogspot.com/  Love it!

Send this video link to your own burro-butterfly, with the hope of bringing him or her into a more social way to dance.  One less jackass-butterfly on the dance floor will make the world a much better and safer place.

Happy Halloween, Tangueros / Tangueras!

Tango Vals: "Perfect Time"

First, please watch this video clip (below) of the great masters, Gavito and Durán.  This entry today is all about the rhythm of tango vals (waltz), which plays with the time like no other waltz.  That is, one can play with the rhythm, and I would argue make the dance truly what tango is at its best:  Improvisation in movement for two.  You will need to watch this video clip more than once, so just this first time, look for the normal down beat (ONE two three).

In music history, 3/4 (the waltz) was called "perfect time."  4/4 time was called, and still is called, "common time."  At the start of a piece a "C" is written for "common time," and is still often used to denote 4/4 time by today's composers.  The word "Common" is used in this sense as "less than perfect" or "vulgar" (in the Latin meaning of that word).  The theology of the Trinity and the huge influence of three on Christianity out of Stoicism influenced this idea of "perfect time."  Is it really "perfect"?  Absolutely!

So let's indulge in the myth of "perfect time."  Vals is the perfect time in which to dance.  Musically speaking we have some interesting things that can be done with the tango vals (waltz), and this video clip is a great example.

Gavito clearly thinks in larger phrases, the smallest of which is 12 beats long (4 measures of 3/4).  The common dancer dances on ONE(2,3), FOUR(5,6), SEVEN (8,9) TEN (11,12), which is the downbeat of each 3/4 phrase.  Since Gavito knows where these are, it does not confuse him to dance on every second beat of the 12-beat phrase (2, 4, 6, 8, 10 and 12), or the second beat of the normal downbeat (2, 5, 8, and 11), for example, which he does at the outset of the video clip.  His partner and any woman with a few tango courses could follow him on this because he is exactly on these beats and they make sense.  His steps on the first half of this clip are mostly on 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 and 12 of the 12-beat phrase.  Then he comes home to the power of the downbeat and resolves with intense pauses.

Gavito is by no means the only great dancer who uses 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 and 12 or 1, 3, 5, 7, 9 and 11 in a vals.  When one is dancing on these beats, it is as if one is dancing a waltz within a waltz (instead of 1 against 3 -- the normal waltz -- one is dancing 3 steps (a waltz) per 6 beats.  Note:  You will need to clap out 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11 (3 against 6 on the downbeat) or 2, 4, 6, 8 10, 12 (3 against 6 on the upbeat) while counting to 12 (over and over) to understand what he is doing.  Watch first, stop the clip, and work out the rhythm with hand clapping.  Then watch it again, and you will begin to understand his genius.  [If you are a musician, the feel is quarter note triplets here.]

Gavito may not have known what he was doing.  I discovered these things from feeling and then tried to figure out why they worked.

Have fun, and if you have questions leave a comment or email me at mark.word1@gmail.com.

Dancing at my own Funeral

Self-Reflection vs Self-Deflection:
Dancing at my own Funeral


First I must define some terms:
Did you ever hear of "Self-Deflection"?  We all know what "self-reflection" means: Thinking about ourselves all the while somewhat removed, trying to understand ourselves. But there is something that has happened a few times in my life for which self-reflection did not prepare me.  I have had to invent a word for this phenomenon:  "Self-deflection." 

Reflection returns our own image to us.  Deflection does not return to us, but our image is sent off in an unexpected direction.  A person who wishes to grow from this event, readjusts where they are standing until the deflection is once again a reflection.  The most powerful self-deflective moment in my life was when an unfaithful woman returned to me, and although I thought her return was my greatest wish the event "deflected" off my sense of the man I knew as me.  I did not rejoice.  I panicked!  "Now what will I do with her!" I asked myself.   I was like the puppy who caught up with the cat, but now was uncertain of what to do with this dangerous object of desire.  

The Funeral
A recent self-deflection allowed me to -- as it were -- dance at my own funeral. This remarkable event was in Austin, Texas. Leaving Austin was a self-deflective moment, and I have been too overwhelmed to fully understand it.  I did not have the terms or the needed level of self-reflection to understand it.  But I did not want to delay writing about it out of gratitude for the love I felt upon leaving.   I have been speechless.


Self-Deflection
Upon getting the word that I had a new job in Washington D.C., I was caught off guard by how much I realized I loved the Austin Tango Community, and how much love they gave me back.  I realized I was a true polygamist and I loved their husbands too!  (Don't read too much into that one, okay?)  I loved so many tangueras.  I knew their stories and danced with them through celebrations and hurts.  And they spoke to me about my place in their lives through conversations and private emails after I started telling them that I would be leaving.  All of these relationship have been absolutely platonic.


Especially dancing at my last milongas (Uptown and Kay's home) was like dancing at my own funeral.  In some ways my own mirror of self-reflection was set slightly off, and the deflection allowed me to be almost an outsider to my own going away. I didn't know the man that so many were fond of and I did not fully realize how fond I was of them.

The other part to being my own funeral is that I had taken the time to say my goodbyes without the dying part!  So I got to hear some pretty powerful eulogies.  The saddest thing about any well-planned funeral is that things are said and eulogies are intoned that the dead one really would have liked to hear.  But at a funeral or wake it is too late!  I got to hear these "eulogies" by many in the community.  Breaking tradition of funerals, however, the dead guy got up and mingled among the crowd:  I thanked others for their eulogies and outpouring of love.


Some months ago, Margret died in the Austin Tango Community and we gathered in one of the most loving memorial services I had ever seen.  People surrounded her and Vance with love.  And this is perhaps how I got my basic theme of what I said at the last milonga -- that the community was more loving than any church I had ever experienced.  


At Kay's milonga for me, I didn't have my glasses on and (as usual), and I could not find them as the music stopped, and I saw Kay saying a few words and asking me to speak.  I wanted to look people in the eye and thank them, but it was just as well that I couldn't.  One person even hid her eyes and just listened for my voice, she told me later.  I might have realized my fear of sobbing had I seen the faces and eyes of so many friends, some of whom wept during our last dances and words together. 


"I try to explain to people who do not dance or understand what I find in tango," I told the group, "...that I have a true treasure through the Austin Tango Community.  I tell those who do not dance that it is like a church, only with less in-fighting and sexual drama happening behind the scenes."  Someone said, "Amen!"  "It is a loving group of people," I continued to say, "who are not afraid to embrace each other.  Some people we get to know very well.  They come from all walks of life. . . . I may be leaving, but I will always consider myself as a part of the Austin Church of Tango."  In the middle, I mentioned how the teachers had made this possible by working together, coming to each other's milongas and supporting each other.  Austin is Austin for the great people, but without the teachers supporting the larger sense of community, Austin would not be special -- as most visiting tangueros/tangueras sense when they come to visit.


So that night I danced as if it were my own funeral.  It was my own self-deflective moment.  I was totally caught off guard by how much I realized I loved so many people, some deeply -- so deeply that each time I talk about this experience I weep.  Each time I re-read and try edit this I weep (and I am getting tired of all the weeping -- so just accept all the typos and tangents, okay?) 


When Deflection turns to Reflection

The larger life lesson is that I hope that I communicate my love more regularly for people who mean so much to me, because at the real event, I may not have the time to say it to each person as I did in Austin.  I may not dance at my real funeral, but I hope that my friends do.


You are awesome Austin!  ¡Les amo mucho!

It takes more than two to Tango

It Takes more than two to Tango:
Lessons from a Cabeceo*- Challenged Tanguero

*Note: Cabeceo comes from the word "cabeza," (head) in Spanish, and means "a nod of  the head."  In the tango community the cabeceo is the way to ask for a dance without words.  The "codicos" or rules of etiquette of the community includes the cabeceo as a major tenant of gentlemanly/ladylike behavior.  Use of the cabeceo helps the lady from having to say "no," and helps the gentleman from confronting unnecessary rejection.  Many tangueros and tangueras have a visual acuity problem.  This post addresses the role of friendship in in the tango community to help tangueros/tangueras who are "cabeceo-challenged."   

Marcus is legally blind.  I did not know this fact when I first met him, but slowly figured it out.  He is pretty good at not revealing this because he probably has honed his social skills since being a kid with a very conscious effort of not sticking out too much.  But now these skills of stealth might be getting in the way of survival in a new social context -- the tango milonga.  However, unlike middle school girls,  tangueras do need to know at a milonga that Marcus is not a snob.  They must know that he just cannot see their gaze that says, "I really would like to dance."  I had a few ideas for Marcus to confront this obstacle:  He could wear a T-shirt with the words on his chest, "If you can read this & wear stilettos, consider this a cabeceo."  Marcus didn't like my idea.  "How about a card you could pass out at the start of a milonga with 'cabeceo' written on it?" I asked.  Also rejected. [Note:  Yes, I did get his reluctant permission to write this post using his name.]


So how does a person who sees only the fuzzy movements of dancers approach a woman and get a dance?  The cabeceo is the correct way in tango, but how does that work for a person who cannot use this method.


The answer might be obvious to many:  just break the rules and ask for dances.  Well, we only modified these rules of etiquette.  The plan was to go on a bit of risky adventure:  His first Tango Festival and in a great place -- Denver.  The risk was that I would be my normal hunter self, searching out unwitting and innocent tangueras at the watering hole (water table), hiding in the bushes of bouquets on ballroom tables, and infiltrating the huddling droves of dance-hungry females, who in their own coy way are hunting for a dance too.  Since I invited Marcus, I knew that I could not leave him alone and have him just sitting out.  Sure, I like Marcus, and I wouldn't want see him just sitting there, but the other thing, I am sure that he would purposely snore in our hotel room or maybe even strangle me in the night.  Now you know what I mean by a risky adventure.


Tango Festival and the Blind Cabeceo
Let's be honest about it.  Many people are legally blind when they don't have their glasses on.  So our discoveries on this adventure should be noted by those people who are already part-time blind (like me) or harbor the fear that old age will one day take away the ability to get a dance at an unknown milonga.  Tango is said to be a social dance between two people.  But to really dance tango well is to dance among everyone else on the floor.  It takes more than two to dance tango.  Tangueros and tangueras dance with everyone on the floor not just with a partner, and we take care of those who are not dancing too.  I learned more about this last part of the social dance at the Denver festival.


Manual for the Blind Cabeceo

• First and foremost be a friend.  I learned this from women, especially my fellow Austin tango community blog colleague, Mari Johnson.  Check out her great blog on this and the links she quotes from other tangueras: http://mytangodiaries.blogspot.com/2009/12/grrl-power-good-stuff.html.  Women take care of each other.  They see the pain of rejection, the muscles  tightening up from sitting, the desperation of just wanting to dance to that particular piece of music.  And they talk to tangueros about their friends, introduce them.  I would drive Marcus to a milonga, and I hated it when he was not dancing in Austin.  But I still talked him into going to Denver.  We'd have to work as friends or be forever enemies.
• Introductions are in order:  I introduced Marcus to anyone I knew.  Mostly he would tell them that he might not recognize their willingness to dance; so they might have to get closer or simply ask.
• Deputize dance partners.  I did not rely on just me introducing someone I met.  I asked them to introduce their friends.  Kari ended up getting Marcus a load of dancers, although I had never met her or any of her friends before. Of course, I also danced with Kari's friends.  Dancing with a partner's friends is good karma.  Women do this for men all the time.  An excellent, veteran dancer whom I had met in Santa Monica, introduced a friend to me too.  Ela and I bonded so well that no other woman danced with me so much as she did.  I think of her as the karma-gift of sharing friends.  I danced the Cumparsita with her at 6 am at the last milonga.  Yes, that good.  And as for Kari ... we danced a salsa that was just amazing after the Cumparsita.
• Hunting is what men do together.  "Okay, Marcus, let's go on a hunt," I would say on the rare time I would find him at our designated waiting area.  We would run into someone every time.  Never a strike out. 
• Blind Faith:  Don't try this without a licence.  "Marcus," I said one time, "do an exact 180 degree turn and give the woman in the peach dress a cabeceo, and I will make sure she gets it."  He reminds me that he doesn't see color.  I am soooo stupid.  He does the about face and like an actor on the stage who cannot see his audience acts as if he could.  There of course are several flaws in my idea.  The first flaw is that Marcus did not show the proper level of his usual caution in doing anything I suggest without considering some escape plan.  But against the odds of the improbable success of any of my shoot-from-the-hip ideas, it works!  Kind of.  She is coy and acts like, "Who me?"  His eye gaze was a few degrees off too, I think. Not seeing the exact interaction of the coy tanguera, he drops his eyes too soon.  This cabeceo stuff is very exacting -- more than one might realize.  Although somewhat unsure, she's now getting up, and I have cabeceo'd a woman four chairs down from her.  Now Marcus thinks this is his tanguera.  Without any real training in air traffic control, I point to the peach lady and nod my head with the universal sigh of "yes, him," while directing her with two four-pointed hands like I just had seen at the airport.   The other lady comes out just to meet the traffic control director (me) to see if he could also dance with my legs.  Oh, how I wish we could have had that on YouTube clip.  200,000 hits in three days.  Of course, publishing that clip would have been my death-in-the-night at the next festival.  Marcus does have his dark side.
• Independence:  It is no coincidence that a man who gets around remarkably well would also use his very gutsy skills to live in a big city to also navigate around and get dances at a festival.  He was good at this and deserves 90% of the credit for even showing up.
• It is a good thing to have cool friends.  From Marcus I learned some important things about tango that I did not expect.  The best example came from a comment of one of his tangueras.  I introduced him to Sara from Santa Barbara.  She has a great presence in her embrace, which we both like.  I take Sara on wild milonga rides, which I know she likes because she hunts me down for milongas in whatever city I am it seems.  However,  Marcus ended up being one of her favorite dancers.  From Sara, I heard that women get tired of men who are going through their entire "vocabulary list" of tango words and sentences they can babble back from expensive stage tango lessons.  Marcus is a "cause-no-harm" kind of dancer, very smooth, musical, tasty.  He later told me that he only used about 30% of his vocabulary.  This was true for me as well because of the tight quarters at first, but he kept this success formula throughout the festival.  Wise man.
• The wild card:  Another Sara -- this one from from the South West -- did not want me to introduce her to Marcus.  As a wise tanguera, she first scoped him out, evidently.  When she saw his level of dance, she found him three or four times during the festival for a dance.   She was the wild card tanguera, and really Marcus's biggest success story.  She was an advanced dancer and she kept coming back for more.  I am jealous!

My most satisfying festival ever
My time with Marcus taught me another level of tango as a social dance, and I came back from the festival more satisfied than ever before -- which says a lot!  I turned four year old as a tanguero at the Denver Festival this year.   In my short life as a tanguero, I have had wonderful experiences in Denver now twice, Albuquerque, Tuscon, Austin x 6, and Houston x 3.  This was by far the best because of the social aspect of how most tangueros in Denver led in a responsible way.  And this time around, I learned about sharing friends and making friends in this remarkable walking embrace, el tango para mas que dos personas.

Body Music

Body Music
   by Mark Word

I visit a milonga, 
just traveling through.
She is timid.  
Hardly ever speaks.

But so graceful.

I study her presence for a while,

Then catch her eyes.

She watches as I near

With rare scrutiny yet a smile.
She seems relieved that I speak
Only with a cabeceo, 
A handhold,
A four-fingered gesture
To the wooden way.

She is delayed in her dance,

Hesitant. . . at first. . . not at all

Connected to the music,
Yet connected to me,
I can feel her searching me.

We pause now between songs.

I say little and she only smiles.

Her eyes somehow haunt me, 

So set on the words of my lips.

We dance on...
I try to move only to the music,

The inner voice reminds us:
"No step without the music saying
Move!"

My thoughts in silence urge her,
"Let your soul hear the music's lead!"

We then start to truly dance,

And our communal breath is one,
Our thoughts seem to meld so suddenly.

She moves with the changes;

She intuits my next move

Through the music.

And I sense her too

Within the music's cue.

"That's amazing!" I gasp at song's end
As if I have forgotten to breathe.

We dance two more songs,

And the pulse transforms us.

Our bodies are the music.
We laugh like children

At tanda's end.

She breaks her silence.

At start, I cannot understand her

Dialect or is it perhaps my shock?
She says,

"I heard the music,

It was Body Music.

I listened better than ever before,

And I really heard the music."

From her nasal intonations,

I know now that she is deaf.

Music is in movement

And movement, in music.

Which came first is a mystery.

But whether through movement
Or sound, music remains the leader.






Photo Credit:
http://www.tattoogirl.us/girl-full-body-tattoo.html

Tarzan goes to Buenos Aires

What do you mean?  You never saw the film "Tarzan Goes to Buenos Aires"?

I am sure you must have seen this film.  I'll remind you about the plot:  


Tarzan and Jane go to Buenos Aires.  At first Tarzan goes out on the floor with Jane and leads her, shoving her around the floor.  And Jane, being told that she must follow and yield entirely to the lead, is not even thinking about the music.  Jane's legs are all tangled, and her steps have nothing to do with the music because she is so delayed trying to figure out what in the hell Tarzan is attempting to lead.


Tarzan, we find as the plot deepens, actually hears the jungle beat of African Canyenge in his blood.  But Jane is just following the abbreviated, overly macho teaching method that leaves it all up to the man.  It works with most women in Buenos Aires because all the little girls grow up with tango.  The Argentinian women are being led by the music in spite of their teachers' misguided instruction.


My favorite part of the movie was severely cut from the original, but a few moments remain in the released version. In this scene, Tarzan makes love to Jane after a frustrating day of classes at a tango dance studio.  They experience the simple synchronization of love, harmonizing of souls and the embrace of tenderness.  A tango plays on the radio in the background.  They realize that the music is leading these most wonderful, tender moments.  That night they miraculously dance as well as ever, synchronized by the music's lead.  Jane turns to Tarzan, and is the first to utter these often repeated words,  "Tarzan, I think tango is a vertical expression of our horizontal desires."  Yes, that was Jane -- a little known urban myth that I just started.

After spending time in the Milonga Jungle in Buenos Aires, including being caught in a raging river of bodies swirling on the pista, during which they nearly die, the movie ends with peaceful, tender scene.  Jane turns to Tarzan after they dance a wonderful tanda and says,  "Tarzan your movement to the music is like deep bass notes vibrating through my soul.  I feel as if my soul can harmonize and and I can sing songs with my body which I never knew I had in me." 


Tarzan, not really knowing what to say, replies,  "Me Tarzan; you Jane."  


NOW do you remember the film?

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall…

So who is the greatest tanguero of them all?

Answer: Not the one watching the mirror!

Last week, I wrote something about how Latino salseros too often would be searching for their next dance partner or anyone watching their coolest moves. And I mentioned that women both in tango and salsa are too often watching the mirror. The comments that came from Buenos Aires were, at first, that MEN watch the mirror there, and women have their eyes closed. Then an expatriate tanguero living in Buenos Aires spoke up to say that the women indeed were watching the mirror there too. So one thing I learned from the many comments – not paying attention to your partner is not a gender-specific problem.


I think people keep coming back to dance tango not for how it looks but how it feels.  Yet, there is a natural desire to see how it looks because it feels so nice.  The draw of mirror is fascinating, and is not easy to explain.

Three mirror stories come to my mind about bodily self-reflection:  Consider Narcissus, a handsome half-man/half-god.  He falls in love with the person he sees mirrored by the pond.  Although many may not know Ovid's story of Narcissus, most adults know his name through the often-used word "narcissistic."  The second story that comes to mind is the Märchen (fairy tale) recorded by the Grimm Brothers, a story most Europeans and Americans know:  Schneewittchen ("Snow White").  And a newer story, published in 1997, gives us a great magical object called The Mirror of Erised, which is a mystical mirror discovered by Harry Potter in a back corridor of Hogwarts, his school. On this mirror the words inscribed, erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi, are the reversed letters of "I show not your face but your heart's desire."


Which of these stories best fits the person who watches the mirror while dancing?   Maybe there is an element of all three stories in this natural draw to look in the mirror.  However, I think that people do not look at mirrors during a milonga because they are being full-fledged narcissists, nor are they inquiring about who is the most beautiful/handsome at that moment, nor do they see their desire rather than their true image, as in with the Mirror of Erised.  But this is the danger:  Watching a mirror at a milonga will give you seven years of bad dancing!  Please note that this urban myth first started here!  ü


It is not easy to break the habit of looking in the mirror because mirrors are generally a good thing in our lives.  Besides the obvious loss of attention and poor dancing caused by mirror-watching, a very important and very old tango rule is being shattered:   Looking at the mirror breaks the rule of not instructing at a milonga.  Usually we think of not instructing others, but mirrors are a type of self-instruction and self-focused information.  The issue, then, really is not a our friend the mirror.  The problem is self-instruction at a milonga, leading to a lack of attention to the music and to one's partner. 

The Light and the Dark Side
So if you find yourself dancing with a mirror-watcher, who is this partner?  Maybe Sigmund Freud would say that you are dancing with Narcissus, or Snow White's Stiefmutter, or simply the object of your desire.  Wrong, Mr. Freud.  But good try.  No, you are dancing on the Dark Side with Darth Vader (or perhaps Dorthy Vedic?).  Although I am not a mirror watcher, I fight the temptation of being pulled over to the Dark Side of tango, and it is not an easy fight. The Dark Side focuses on how things look rather than how things feel.  Beginners are drawn to tango because they don't know how it feels but how it looks cool.  I think it then it becomes a quest to dance the way it looks for others, which compliments the feelings they get.  This, my friends, is okay, but still the "Dark Side" in my opinion.

Clarification:  I do not want to sound holier-than-thou. There is nothing wrong with the Dark Side.  I live on the dark side most of the time.  I run a blog.  That is the dark side.  I snowboard on skiers' slopes.  That is the dark side.  I wear aggressive in-line skates at skateboard parks.  That is the Dark Side.  I play drums:  Definitely the Dark Side.   My ex-wife on a more charitable day would say that I am 99% Dark Side.  So it is just that finally in one thing in my life I have found the light – tango.  So I will try to be patient with tangueros and tangueras who want to play on the Dark Side, preoccupied with how they look rather than dancing in the Light of How Things Feel Between Two.  May the Force be with you.

What I learned from Salsa

The basic rules for dancing in the tango community seem like a different universe when one goes out salsa dancing.  In salsa communities:

• You ask someone to dance.  There is no culture of the cabeceo.
• In salsa there is usually not an embrace, and many turns for the lady.
• You dance only one song, and then change partners.
• Patterns permeate the dance for most dancers.
• There are usually no stops or pauses, unless choreographed.

I love the music and the joy of salsa.  But one day tango took over.  For a long time I told others, "I am more of a salsero than a tanguero."  And then one day, my abilities and dance "vocabulary" took over.  The music and even my passion for dance exponentially grew.  I believe it was because of the improvisational nature of tango.  I am dancing to the bass or the violins.  Or perhaps there is a powerful pause and now we are dancing on the upbeat (2/4/6/8) rather than the usual downbeat.  Moreover, she may be dancing on the melody and I am with the rhythm section.  This is the greatest difference for me, explaining why tango is so satisfying compared to other dances. 

Of course, milongueros will say, "and the embrace is missing in salsa!"  Yes, this is true to a great degree, but before tango I already was dancing with an embrace in bachata, merenge, salsa and especially rumba -- at least with a woman who trusted that it was only a dance. 

Salsa was a good preparation for tango.  This is what I learned:

1. Don't hurt her.  Many women have hurts and pains from salsa or tango because of "man-handling."  Turns in salsa are dangerous and many women are hurt.  A light lead eventually had me dancing with many women who knew I would not hurt them.  In tango, the same principle applies.  Many women who dance a lot are pretty fragile -- not all over, but in certain places.  In tango volcadas are especially dangerous to her back.  She is dancing with exposed legs and feet while walking BACKWARDS.  It is a man's job to do a DAMN good job in protecting her obvious and not so obvious vulnerabilities.

2. Treat her like a lady.  Some men in salsa would pull a woman onto the dance floor, and then, at song's end dart off to find his next victim.  The beauty of the best Latin culture is to take her by the hand to the dance floor and then escort her off the dance floor.  I did NOT make this up.  This is salsa/tango protocol.  Anything less is not culturally savvy and not gentlemanly.  Ladies who do not expect this are training men to be culturally unaware of the milieu of Latin dance.

3. Dance only with her.  I learned what not to do from some less-cultured Latinos in El Paso.  Too many Latinos looked so childish because they were doing some cool move and then would look around to see who saw it.  Too often the hetero-Latino is looking for his next partner while dancing, and the gay Latino was watching the ceiling.  (This is just an observation of my Puerto Rican partner and friend who knew all the drama in the club.)  SO, dance with the woman in front of you!  And whatever you do, don't look at the ceiling!  (And ladies: stop looking at the mirror.  We know when you are doing it because you don't dance as well.)

4. Be mindful of her regular partner.  I learned from Luz, my Puerto Rican friend, that I should never ask a woman to dance without asking her male friend's "permission" in a Latin club.  That still bugs me because it feels like possession of a woman or as if she is a little child, but at its best it is also merely a sensitivity to a couple you may not know.  Many Latinas are offended if you do not ask him.  Just two weeks ago at a milonga, I asked a Latino if I might dance with his date, and he just looked away.  But the Latina Tanguera still got up and danced.  I am not sure what to say about this one.  I just went back to gringo culture that she was a mature woman, and could make her own decisions. 

5. Don't take it personally if she rejects you.  You will avoid this in tango by never asking but waiting for her cabeceo (nod of the head).  Anyway, at a salsa dance I would ask many Latinas to dance and they would said "no."  There are a million reasons that they may not want to salsa (or tango) with you.  Let me give just a few:

• One Latina said "no" and then I saw that her partner returned to their table from the restroom.  She said "no" because she was sensitive to his feelings evidently. 
• Some just couldn't dance or even speak Spanish.  The assumption was they could do both because of their shoes, dress and long black hair.  But they just came from work!  In tango this is less likely but the issue may be your skill level or lack of floorcraft.
• Some women were looking for a salsa partner with benefits, or (more likely) saw dancing with a man as a potential desire on his part to buy her drinks and pester her the rest of the night. Once women saw that I was there just to dance, I was dancing with a lot of the Latinas of all ages who just wanted to dance.   When I was in El Paso, the Latinas who came down from the University of Arizona in Las Cruces sought me out because of rule 1, 2, 3 and 5 (above) -- I didn't hurt them; I treated them with respect; I danced only with my partner and eventually I watched for a the salsa "look" (like the tango cabeco) after they saw how I took care and treated of my partner on the dance floor.

6.  Dress up for all latin dances:  The UTEP (the University of Texas, El Paso), is called "the best-dressed campus in Texas."  That is because of the Latinos and Latinas.  Dressing nicely is something that is normal in Latin America and Europe.  I grew up in Reno, Nevada.  I wore cowboy boots to school from 7th-12th grade (not every day).  Jeans were my most usual attire. I bought my own horse at 15, raised chickens. I spoke only English.  That was then. Now I speak Salsa and Tango.  Dressing down is not Tango or Salsa, at least to me.  Many teachers from Argentina bring this up -- especially the older ones, but it falls on ears that don't speak tango.  I will just speak for myself here:  If all the ladies are dressed down, so am I .  However if the ladies are almost all dressing nicely, I feel weird about dancing with her if she took the time to look good but I did not.  I would feel insensitive to her not to dress at her level.

So salsa and other dances do have something to teach the tanguero.  And as a bonus, the improvisational nature of tango has made me a much better salsero because I dance to the music more.  From tango I have learned to lead stops in the many salsa tunes I know.  I now can turn her at the musically appropriate time as well.  Tango, however, is for me the epitome of dance improvisation for two.  And its culture, its special embrace is without peer.

Once Upon my Feet: Returning from War (3rd of 3 poems)

Once Upon my Feet

Our daughters sketched tango dancers
With red and black crayons.
At the early milonga they'd draw.
I always promised them both a dance,
Yet they would cut-in all the same.
"Daddy is it my turn now?"


The little one danced upon my feet.
But at any pause, she'd show her strength.
She'd clean her shoes on my pants,
And gancho with a smile.


Her older sister had grown into her own style.
She liked the sweep of her feet with mine.
"Daddy, barrida!" was her whispered cue.
And I obliged with a sweep or two.


They're gone now, and a man answers their phone.
My wife, just another not waiting for her soldier's return.
I dreamed of six arms holding me near the plane.
War was easier than watching other families embrace
And then returning to this empty place.


The tangueras who know me, know why
I need their embrace;
Why I hold their hands as I do,
Watching as theirs settles in mine.
They know my hurt and how their
Walking-embrace at times is my only solace.


Afterword: This is the last of three poems that I dedicated to veterans of combat.

• The first was a single man with PTSD.
• The second, a female soldier devastated by sexual assault of a battle comrade, whom she thought she could trust.
• And finally, this poem, a story of parental alienation.

I have sons, not daughters.  This is fiction but all too real.  People who know me and have read all three poems have noticed that these poems are not my usual style.  They are poems with less of a sense of hope and light than usual.  But the light comes from the community where the power of a human embrace has power to heal and make God's touch known.

Perhaps these poems are dark. War is dark.  The nightmares and the two to four hours of sleep that combat vets often get make for a dark life.  I do have hope and see wonderful changes, but the tides of oil-soaked souls keep coming up on my shores. I love my work, and I am NOT burned out from this work. I am invigorated by it. But do you know how tragic this is to have a nation at war; yet, too few know the real price?  The malls are full of shoppers, even as we are at war and complain about having the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. 

I wish that our nation was as concerned and distressed over all of the oil covered souls washing ashore as much as the environmental devastation in the Gulf of Mexico.

Cumparsita of the Soul (the second of three poems)

Walking-Embrace, Searching

I met her at a milonga some months back.
We danced often, but I did not know.
Her face had a concern I could not read.
A friend told me she was a combat vet.
I left it to her to tell me more if she'd like.

Early to the milonga, we danced alone.
A pause allowed her to speak.
"I want you to know," she said... and paused.
She searched my face as if for the words.
"I am here to find my soul."

I wondered if this were the over-statement
Of how tango, like just another fad,
Had become everything to her, an addiction.
But she had a seriousness, all the while
A yearning, that someone understand.

"I left my soul, my friends say, in Iraq.
I know I left my trust of men there...
With a battle buddy whom I both mourn
And despise from his false embrace,
From his forceful violation of my trust.

"And then as if my fury had its own power,
He died, in a burning convoy truck the next day.
And now I fear even my own anger,
As if it had the power to kill.
I know anger cannot, but I fear mine can.

"He and I were close, two wild animals
In a tree waiting for the flood to pass.
Our alarm clock was mortar fire.
Our welcoming party was the laughter
Of AK-47's and radio chatter in Farsi."

"But when a fellow soldier
Became the enemy too,
I had no refuge, no place to turn.
He stole even my mourning at his death,
...the bastard, the stupid bastard!"

She lightly pounded my chest,
Half-given to our tango embrace.
The DJ, half-cocked her gaze at us,
Wondering why my partner was in distress.
But the music played on.

"Walk with me." I said.
Was it just her tears or was she melting
Into my chest and crying the melody?
Her embrace became a primal hug,
As if she were inside of my chest, weeping.

Again we paused.
With red eyes, she apologized
For her work of art on my chest--
Watercolor with mascara
On black canvas and tie.

We danced the third song of the tanda.
At song's end, I did not let her go.
I held her near, and voice-to-ear whispered:
"Your soul is still here, very near.
You did not leave your soul in Iraq.

"You would have to return there to find it.
Many try and fail; your soul is here.
The many people who love you
Store your soul in their hearts for you.
Visit their hearts and you will find your soul."

We danced three tandas that night.
Each time I danced as simply as I could:
A tango walk, living and breathing
As soulful and steady
As the bellows of the bandoneón.

The last tanda of the night.
She had stopped weeping.
She stopped me mid-Cumparsita.
Peering in my eyes, "I found it!" she said.
"What? Found what?"

"My soul. It's timid and doesn't always stay.
But it has visited me tonight."
As we danced, I wondered if she felt
The wet irony of the tears on my face,
Which I cloaked by our close embrace.

I was once told that a tanguero
Becomes a true tanguero
When a woman weeps in his arms.

But that is not true.

A woman weeps when she has found
Her soul in the simplicity of a walking embrace,
And the primal hug which cradles it.



This is the second of three poems, dedicated to soldiers.  Only one out of ten women, according to the Department of Defense, report sexual assault out of fear of reprisals and worse problems while they are deployed.  Of those that do report, many say they wished they had not.

When I meet these women, they sometimes complain that their difficulites are minimized by both male and female soldiers, doctors, therapists.  The biggest tragedies begin upon their return.  This story is a collage of stories.  There is no actual soldier tanguera with whom I have danced -- at least as depicted here.  But I have experienced the weeping on my black shirt, and it truly is all about finding one's soul. 

Tangueros/tangueras:  I hope you can appreciate the power of tango.  It is more than a dance, a nice community of people:  It is a walking-embrace, searching for the soul that sometimes gets away from us. 

Chasm-Embrace (first of three poems)

Chasm-Embrace

She called me "her knight" before I left.
We would dance all night, holding tight.
Then a tanguero from the City came.
Since then I felt an absence in her presence.
I heard it in her voice a long-distance away.

Returning from war, I felt her change.
A gap in our milonguero embrace
Grew with each tango we danced.
And jealousy began to devour me.
I could not hide my sadness and doubt.

When I saw how she melted in his arms.
My jealousy made the chasm-embrace grow,
But try as may, jealousy had its own power.
She said I was a different man from war.
Her combat with loneliness had changed her too.

The tanguero from the City has left,
But now the ruins of our castle stands
With cracks in the walls and a waterless moat.
The ruin walls are jagged and bleak,
A mere marker of a history that once was.

The grand room, once full of friends,
Is now a refuge for goats and a mule.
The floor where we danced is now only grass.
I had to leave, and find another village to escape,
Vanquished and in exile by Sword of Love-Lost.

I haunt each milonga now, my only refuge left.
The thirst I have for a moving embrace!
And for one tanda at a time, I forget who I am:
A knight without a castle, defeated after battle.
Only the bandoneón understands my tears.

Only the embrace of friends gives me solace... en mi soledad.



This poem is dedicated to the soldiers whom I know at Fort Hood who come home and their children and wife have disappeared with a man from "the City."  The largest casualty of war is relationships in ruins.  Many men come home still alive but their souls are forever altered as much from the war as the ruins of their marriages/engagements.  This poem is not about me, but about the suffering I see in my office.  This is a first of three poems dedicated to warriors.  Another poem will follow dedicated to the women warriors I know and help as a therapist.  The last poem will be dedicated to men coming home, finding their children gone.

If I could prescribe one thing, I would wish they could know the power of the moving embrace, which I have found in tango.

Art Credit:
http://tiorra.deviantart.com/art/The-English-Lady-The-Knight-66440015

I Feel Blame in Your Embrace

¿La Culpa es Mía?


A favorite tanguera of mine wrote on Facebook, "Great tango vals class with Fulana today. She is very precise, and places the onus where it should be: on the lead."

I hope so much that it is not too late to convince my tanguera friend that believing such a statement will eventual suck every bit of joy out of her dancing.

Teachers that find it necessary to blame into the dance hurt both leaders and followers. Women who place onus on men create performance anxiety.  In the long run these ladies will not get what they need on the dance floor or in bed -- or in life.  Men will get in an argument which they will not win because so much responsibility is theirs.  Yet, isn't blame childish?  At least it is uniformed. Modern tango is a conversation, and blame is not a part of an enlightened conversation.

The Onus Theory is an educational, pedagogical theory.  Please prove this theory with a demonstration of 100 women.  If the onus is truly 100% on the lead, 100 women (trained or untrained) should execute what the perfect tanguero leads with precision.  The Onus Theory is also an anthropological theory:  The study of human behavior and the interplay of roles.  Again, the onus or burden being alone on the male role is uninformed anthropology.  Poor politics, poor marriages, poor work environments, poor production levels, poor team sports -- all are based on what this teacher has espoused in the Onus Theory.
 
I feel blame in her embrace
Nothing has to be said.  I intuit the woman who believes this uninformed (but oh so handy) Onus Theory.  I am forced to focus only on the music and the community of dancers around me because I am dancing with a ghost.  The typical Onus Woman will either find her joy only in teaching or give up tango within seven years, I believe.  I feel truly sorry for her.  She is the classic victim.  "I am not having fun, and it is his fault.  Tango is no longer fun for me.  I quit."  The burden was on him to keep her joy of dance.  Her tango is already soulless before she gives it all up.  I feel it in the way she responds, the way she looks at me, the way she is not fully present. 

The tanguera who wrote the above words is not that kind of woman.  On the contrary, she is wonderful.  She melts her right hand into my left like few women I have known.  She gives herself fully to my embrace. The last time I danced with her she even apologized and said she hadn't been able to dance much because of a tragedy in her life, and she said she could feel my improvement.  Yet, evidently the female teacher so impressed her that she started to believe the myth macho of tango:  "Me Tarzan; you Jane.  I talk; you listen."  It is not Organic Tango, which is a sharing of the dance "conversation's" success not a burden on one role. (See a definition at http://www.organictangosf.info/organic.htm and my own at  http://tango-beat.blogspot.com/2010/05/organic-tango-inspired-by-women.html.)

Only the Hard Headed Survive
Tango has a high drop-out rate because of the feeling of an onus both on women and men.  They leave and never come back.  In salsa that is not true at all.  It is better for me when there are more leaders.  At the last milonga I danced with nearly every women.  I sat out two tandas.  There are simply not enough leaders.  Is it the onus they feel?   The woman has a hard task -- just as hard to learn as the man's part.  But why the blaming when things go "wrong"?  Even these "wrong" moments have created things like volcadas. 

Taking the Onus Seriously
Lately, all of the classes I have been going to are full of men trying to get better.  Where are all the women?  A tanguera explained:  "Well, I don't know why, but many women get to a certain level, and then they enjoy a free ride with the good male dancers."  Another onus?   At least in my town, men are doing their best to learn their role.


Gentlemen:  If you are blaming your partner, putting the onus her to get your lead, you needn't say anything.  Ladies:  If he is entirely to blame for why his lead was not clear, you need not say anything.  Your partner can feel it in your embrace.

Her Shoes at My Door

Her Shoes at my Door
She forgot her shoes at the milonga.
I agreed to take them to her the next day,
But this morning I saw them waiting at my door
And I lost my senses for a moment.
"Maybe I could keep them," I told myself.
"They look good at my door,"
I thought.

I reluctantly decided to give them back.
So I drove by and dropped them off.
"Shoe delivery!"
I said.

She, her husband, the dogs, the cat and I
Talked for a while.
But my mind wandered for a while
Back to the shoes by my door, my mind
Wandered to a pretend world, a woman in my life.
She was upstairs watching a tango video,
Telling me to come upstairs
To see.

She just took a shower.
I felt her presence, good to have her here.
I was fooling myself that I could live without her,
That I could live without a companion.

Yes, I was fooling myself.
I had to give the shoes back.
No woman upstairs,
No woman freshly out of the shower,
Talking to her dog, as if he understood,
Swooning over a tango film clip
On the computer screen.

My shoes sit now alone at the door.
I wonder if they are angry at me.
Her shoes told me more about myself
Than I was ready for this morning.

The novel woman,
With her shoes at my door
Was a fiction written
Just for me.
By a lonely heart.

by Mark Word
31 May 2010


Photo credit:
"Los Zapatos Abandonados,"
by Sybille Word
18 Jan 2017

Organic Tango: Inspired by women

Organic tango* is a term I use to describe what happens when the music and and the chemistry between two people create something that is unique.  Organic tango is happening all the time, but sometimes we just don't realize it. 

In therapy sessions with individuals and couples there is often at least one moment that is "momentous."  Maybe it's a woman who realizes down to her bone that she is not even remotely to blame for her rape when she was a girl.  The years of self-blame melt in one session.  Or the couple that realizes that they truly do adore each other, and they commit to work of being a couple.  Today, a combat vet in my office cried for the first time about his friend burning to death in a Bradly Fighting Vehicle in Iraq, and a weight fell from his soldiers.  His heart beat went from 102 to 70 beats per minute in just a few minutes.  His migraine headache vanished.  I call this "a holy moment" because in religion the expectation is normalized that if one recognizes holy moments, more blessings will come.  "Then a window from heaven will open up with a bounty more than you can receive."  I have holy moments all the time.  In therapy sessions with combat veterans.  Moments with my children.  On the dance floor.  When these holy moments happen on the dance floor, Organic Tango is happening.

If you don't recognize these moments for the holy moments they are, then I believe they will disapate as efemeral warm-fuzzy moments.  It is kind of like Moses hearing the 10 Commandments but forgetting about them after the long trek down Mt. Siani.  "Hey Moses, your hair turn white, man.  What happened to you?"  Moses says, "Man, it was really cool. Lightning and stuff.  You shudda been there, man."Take note of the holy ground that you are trodding upon.   It is my job in therapy sessions to recognize these moments from what people are saying, and point out the moment.  Otherwise it too often disappears as just a "warm fuzzy" for the moment.  Holy ground becomes the dance floor when a woman says, "You know that thing we did over in that corner. [She's pointing.] What was that?  It was cool."  Scheeez.  I don't know anymore.  Focus, Mark.  Try to reconstruct.  She helps with a vague description.  It was a special moment in the music and how she responded.  Yes, now I remember. Something just grew out of the moment, the music, the connection that both of us had never experienced from classes or with other dancers.  This is organic tango.  No preservatives or pesticides or artificial fertilizers.  It nourishes your soul.



Here is some practical advice of how to remember these moments, a way to "count your blessings" to be ready for more:  Name the new move after the woman who inspired it (and take note of the music).  The ladies have led me so often to new places on a discovery walk.   In the last reflection, I said "women do lead."  This means "lead to organic tango."
 
So gentlemen, buy a spiral notebook.  I have been naming inspirations after my tangueras for about four months now. It has been wonderful, and more organic tango is blooming in my tango garden all the time as a result!


As for the ladies:  Having a turn, sacada or gancho named after you is much better than in the medical science community. How would you like to be Jessica Alzheimer or Susan Heimlich? Embarrassing at cocktail parties.

So I am dedicating myself to remembering those women who inspire a particular move and/or the music that led us there. The one woman who has inspired me the most was Alicia.  She is responsible for countless steps we have co-discovered. One paso I call, "Ocho Caminando de Alicia" keeps her in the cross system (ochos atrás) while alternating my forward traspies both on the open and closed sides.  Because of Mary Ann (Austin), I was inspired to do the Ocho Caminando on the closed side in milonguero embrace for the first time some months ago. 

The second person responsible for many moves started inspiring me on her 3rd month as a tanguera. Janet somehow is responsible for so many new ideas that I cannot even remember which ones belong to her (sorry Janet).


Most of my best inspirations often come from a partner who fully accepts me. It is hard not to sense the critical thoughts of any woman who is judging me as if I were in some sort of audition, and thereafter I usually cannot grow organic tango in her presence.  I can dance well because I dance in honor of the music, composer and musicians, but she must be put out of my thoughts.  Physcially we are dancing but their is no psychological connection.

Female teachers used to intimidate me, but now Mardi Brown (Austin) is great for organic tango, or better said, offers me a great musical pathway that is wonderful.  Her organic tango can last for a whole song or tanda.  Austin's new world class teacher and dancer, Daniela Acuri, from Buenos Aires inspired a new clockwise turn recently as we were dancing. Later, I perfected it in cross system with a veteran dancer, Kathy D. So it has her name as el círculo de Katrina.

Just recently el círculo became an INCREDIBLE move because of all the other women who taught me how to make it work with most anyone.  An interesting alternative response to my lead came from Johanna in LA. Other women were doing what she did but she was the first to do it very cleanly. Before Johanna I was misunderstanding what some women were doing until I saw (felt) Johanna do it. So now I recognize that women interpret el Círculo de Katarina in two basic ways.


The great tangueras in Santa Mónica, California recently, made me realize that each woman makes me speak my tango with their dialect and accent. With Sara (Santa Barbara), I was able to do little nuances that I would have never tried before. However she kept catching little things and I kept getting more subtle. Her organic tango moment is called el decrecendo de Sara (small steps that melt into only body movements) -- so luscious.

Wanda, from San Diego, allowed me to pause and improvise off of the sub-rhythms of tango (musically stated 1/4/7 of eightnotes or quarternotes or even half-notes).  Again leading me to places I had never been before, but that was also true of Caroline, Sara W. and Wanda in California. I now see this ability to not pull me into the next step as the epitome of a great tanguera.  (Note to guys:  Going slower in these sub-rhythms can also be led with talented beginners; so don't blame women if they don't "get it."  Also, guys this rhythm is the essence of tango/milonga/canyenge; so if you don't know what this means, send me an email.  Women cannot very easily inspire you to dance to this; it must be by listening to the music.  I discovered it by dancing by myself a lot.)


There are other pasos like el Péndulo de Mari (Austin) that is outrageously fun in a milonga.  It had never worked in close embrace and it was taught by a famous tango great (Salas) as an open embrace caminada.  But one evening Mari and I discovered something new in the milonguero embrace.  This was truly organic tango because she is somewhat shorter than I, and even now the pendulum is somewhat easier with tall women usually.  Not for her though.  The move belongs to her.

Dayna is responsible for a counter rhythm with a barrida during a molinete (two against three). I don't know what the heck I should call that. ¿Perhaps la cosa de Dayna? I am not going to describe this because I don't have command of English enough to do it justice. 

Just this Sunday, Sara M. (Austin/Seattle) along with the music inspired an extended segment in which she was dancing on the downbeat and I on the upbeat. It was an out-of-body experience. ¿Poli-ritmos de Sara?  That was definitely organic because it was in close embrace.  She owns it, and the music really called for it.  It won't work just any time -- a hallmark of truly organic tango.

How often does organic tango happen?  At the start, I said "all the time."  But are we recognizing these moments?  Just last weekend on Friday, Bentley created the "Pivot de Bentley," which I didn't even recognize as being that special until she pointed it out as being so fun, and yes, another organic tango moment. This led Kathy D. to comment (at a práctica) last Sunday that she felt the Pivot de Bentley wasn't soft enough. So Kathy inspired the softer version and by accident we created a leg-push sacada (her left leg) with a thigh sacada (her right leg) all with my left leg. This is repeated about 4 times for a 360 degree fairly tight circle. We are in the cross system. It is awesome. Thank you ladies! The result (according to my notebook): A combination (in cross) of Pivot de Bentley and círculo a la izquierda con sacadas alternadas de Katarina. Incredible.

From writing this article, I know that I am already in trouble for not naming all the other great inspirations from countless tangueras. I am humbled by their generous contributions to my treasure chest.

An important note:
These moments I am describing here are in some ways not true organic tango, which can go on all night.  But I do not have the words to describe this phenomenon.  Tango is not a compilation of steps like other dances tend to be.  And Organic Tango is not just steps or moments.  The best organic tango is an entire tanda with an organic embrace, which I call the "docking station embrace."  I feel as if I am floating in space but at the same time I feel I am home and safe in my partner's arms.  This happens all the time, but I am at a loss to describe it.  A few examples of the hights of these moments are empirical examples that something special was happening, abstractions of the larger painting.

So from my spiral notebook, which I only have started, I have these moments (listed below).  My hope is that a few tangueras will remind me of some holy moment / organic moment / nirvana nanosecond / heaven-on-earth tanda with me (or talk with any man who understands organic-Sprache or will simply listen to you.) 

Organic tango is good for you and the environment. And like the other types: It takes two. 


My Organic Tango ListHelp me with my list, ladies!

• Ochos atrás y caminando de Alicia (México)
• Cuñita ganchos de Alicia
• La sentada de Alicia
• 3 contra 6  Vals de Alicia
• Lápiz con enganche de Janet (Austin) and many more
• Círculo del Reloj de Daniela Acuri (Buenos Aires)
• Círculo cruzado hacia la derecha de Katrina D. (Austin)…
• …y traducción de Johanna (Los Ángels)
• Decrcendo [term from music/Latin] de Sara W. (Santa Bárbara)
• Pausa de Wanda/Johanna/Sara W. (tangueras de California)
• La Milonga-Péndelo de Mari (Austin)
• Multi-ritmos molinete de Dayna (Austin)
• Pivot de Bentlye (Austin) [Just this Friday at Uptown]
• Docking Station Embrace: Christina (Alemania); Tatyana and Irina (Rusia); Alicia (México); Kay and Pat (Austin)
• Docking Station Embrace teachers: Daniela Acuri (BsAs) / Phyllis Williams (Dallas)
• Hand melting in mine:  Teresa M. (Cuba); Mari (Austin)
• Dynamic breathing: Alessandra (Austin)
  
  From Sunday night’s práctica in Austin:
• Sacada doble y vuelta suave de Katarina D. y…
• Milonga contra-ritmos de Sara M. (Austin)

*Organic Tango:  After finishing this article, I did an Internet search on "organic tango."  Others have defined "organic tango" and we are on the same wave length.  Both of us agree on taking away the Tarzan mentality from tango -- "Me lead, you follow.")  Go to http://www.organictangosf.info/organic.htm for a great definition.