Tangodurians

In relation to Christina's post below, one of the hardest and perhaps most addictive thing about tango is the very apparent lack of structure in the way we dance to a song. Every song and dance is different with a different partner at a different time. It's almost impossible to know what you will be doing next in a tanda, much less prepare yourself for it. Which is probably why more experienced dancers never cease to remind me to not anticipate what they are planning to do next. Part of the equation for this is musicality and i find that in trying to keep up with the moves my partner is trying to make me perform and being extremely aware of how sometimes, how very badly i perform it, i tend to forget to listen to the music. Tango for me right now is more about being able to move into the right steps rather than moving seamlessly with the music. Which is a shame really because when i am listening to the music and when i am less concentrated on trying to do an ocho cortado correc...

I have been considering what Tango is going to be like back home in KL. Funny isn't it, when I should be seriously worrying about what I'm DOING with my life, I end up instead worrying about a dance. God help me. But yes, am I being hypercynical when I think "good god, what the hell are Malaysian guys going to dance like!?" I don't know. Does it take a white guy who is from Argentina to be able to "truly" dance the Tango or even then, is Ann Arbor tango not even close to what Tango should actually be like? How do you convey a dance that has no set patterns or moves, where different people tell you to do different things, where movements have absolutely no structure?! It's not like ballet, where there are moves that are perfected and people aspire to recreate these moves to the highest degree of technicality and grace. Tango is about raw emotion translated onto the dance floor, and it is a dance that takes place between two people. I think that...

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. That's what happens when the male:female ratio is around 1:2 and you aren't exactly the best dancer around. eeps. Did spend about 2 hrs on my arse yesterday until finally got to dancing when Rambut putih asked me to. He was trying to do some funky things which probably isn't the best etiquette on the dance floor to do, but I have to admit the Volcado thing was fun, even though I am far from being Marcelo Duran on Carlos Gavito. Far, far, FAR from it. Try the opposite + 10 miles. Decided I was tired of waiting around to be asked so asked Orang Tinggi about some Tangonuevo music (in all honesty it was something I wanted to know anyway) and he was nice enough to invite me for a Tanda after. I like how he does the long strides and kinda gracefully sticks his leg up in the air. Lol. Got Mcfeet again much to F's cursing in the background =P. Was decent, felt like I wasn't sure what he was trying to do at some pts, but for the most part...

I had my 4th milonga last night. And as usual, i spent 3/4 of the time i was there sitting on my chair trying to look like i am able and ready to dance. Eager beginners get dances? LOL. Next time i'm pulling a C-J tactic. Talk to a guy about something related to tango and after a few minutes, he MIGHT feel semi obligated to ask you to dance. Well, it's worth a shot! My point is, last night, i had maybe 5 dances in a span of 4 hours. That's only about 1 hour of dancing. Not good. Being out of the scene for about 2 weeks, I had difficulties following a few leaders, for obvious reasons. I'm usually not THAT horrible. arrrrrr. I did have a few good dances with Cikgu and MD and maybe Phillo, but T and i could not connect! At all. I felt nothing. Which is probably the worse feeling you can go through while dancing with someone. It's like you become two separate entities instead of one. I felt sooooo bad because i could tell that he was trying really hard to establish that...

What happens when you combine La Cumparsita, Lucille Ball and Eggs. This. credit to tangrila.blogspot.com

I've been on a Tango hiatus. It's been about an entire week since my last tanda, and i'll possibly have to wait another entire week before my next practica/milonga. 4 months ago, i wouldn't have missed not dancing for a week. 4 months ago, i wouldn't even thought of tango as being a part of me. 4 months ago, Argentine Tango was merely something i had planned on learning sometime later in life. I'm so glad that my first tango encounter in that tiny little workshop last spring has moved me so much to nudge me into my first steps in tango. Had tall ponytail guy neglected to establish an amazing connection while trying to move a less than coordinated econ freak, i don't think i would've ever ventured into dancing, attempting to understand the whirlwind experience that is Argentine Tango. If the combination of ochos, sacadas, boleos and molinetes no longer makes my head spin with delight, i think i will feel dead on the inside. =P

I'd like to play a game. It begins in a room with the meeting of eyes, an extension of the hands for an invite. A mute acceptance. A man and a woman. The music begins, cascading landscape of the violins with the growling baritone notes of a piano. Two strangers join hands in the middle of a crowded dancefloor, embrazo. There is a momentary pause, the calm before the storm. The violins strain as in tandem, the strong pizzicato and legs sweep across the floor, first in one direction than in another. The first blush of meeting, the tentative start. Slowly, a comfortable niche forms. He pauses testing the waters, moves with more assurance. He questions, "Do you trust?" She responds, giving him  the reply he needs. "I surrender". Syncopated beats fill the movements, a build-up, an explosion of emotions. Molinete, Sacadas, Boleos, Ochos. The violins begin their descent, rubato.  An assertion of chords.  A chorus of orchestral voices, the chromatic trend of ...

When I'm procrastinating as I am now, I tend to read blogs. Now that I've found tango, I've combined two of my loves together, tango+blog=tangoblogs! Perfection. Like homemade Kaya and bread toasted over one of those ancient charcoal fires. Best teatime snack in the world. Looking around it's not hard to find gazillions of tango blogs all talking about the fanatic drive that seems to grip the Tango obsessed. Funny how one dance can cause that much devotion, but who am I to speak, these are after all the chronicles of us tango beginners! Adapted from http://mytangodiaries.blogspot.com/: "Your baby at One Year - Milestones this month (from Parenthood.com)" - She can stand alone for several minutes. (standing is fine, moving it a bit harder) - Baby walks well(decently so) - Baby expresses her wants with gestures and words instead of cries. (or exclamations of oops/shit/sorry/crap! ) I think...I'm definitely still less than a year old! ...

I turned up to my first Tango lesson in flipflops. Tango afficiandos (esp the female ones) will probably recoil in horror because a flipflop to a pair of Comme Il Faut's are the equivalent of Loubatins to Phua Chu Kang's yellow construction worker rubber rainboots. A Flip-flop is aptly name for the name it makes, a "flip" and a "flop". A total opposite to the purpose of a Tango shoe. Needless to say I've progressed from there. Tango was something that I imagined as it has been portrayed in countless movies, the erect backs, the rose between the teeth, the opposite facing individuals, the constant dum-dum-dum-da-dum-dum beat heavy music as the dancers not so much glided as stomped whirlingly across a floor, heads snapping dramatically. Such a case of mistaken identity. In the short time I've been dancing, Tango has brought awkwardness, pain, joy, anticipation, trepidation and above all an obsessive compulsion for all things tango, all the time...