Tangodurians

From the very beginning of learning this dance, back, back, way back to the fundamentals of walking backward (in flipflops no less), I've heard it said again and again and having espoused it myself, that if you can walk, you can Tango. Makes it sound so easy until you're grappling with music, space, embrace, another person, arms, legs, timing, tangled. ARGH. But it's true isn't it? Lead comes from the top. I've been having trouble describing the difference between Tango and Salsa to people who don't really know either dance. Calling Salsa showy and loud soon begged to be re-assessed when you think of the pained and contorted expressions that often end up on our face in Tango (sometimes...sometimes it's really an uninhibited expression of what we were feeling at that time). But I think I've found it. You dance Salsa with your legs, you dance Tango with your chest. That's it really, that's how it's so different. You learn Salsa with ...

The White Chapel lyrics by Hector Marcó In the white chapel of a town out in the provinces very close to a crystal clear creek, your hands drove me to prayer. Your hands that used to enflame my child’s heart, and the foot of a Holy Christ you gave me a drink from the waters of tenderness. Happily the moon watched us come down the mountain following the stars, drinking among your goats a little dose of love… and today those timid bells are dark birds that toll from afar the call to prayer. Your voice died in the river, and in the white chapel it left an empty space… empty, like both our souls. La capilla blanca En la capilla blanca de un pueblo provinciano muy junto a un arroyuelo de cristal, me hincaban a rezar tus manos. Tus manos que encendían mi corazón de niño, y al pie de un Santo Cristo, las aguas del cariño me dabas de beber. Feliz nos vio la luna bajar por la montaña siguiendo las estrellas, bebiendo entre tus cabras, un ánfora de ...

Who are we when we dance? When do we embody the little quavers, the running trills, the long sweep of a bow, the staccatoed steps of a quick beat and weight change, the spiralling ochos and giros leaning upon a centered foot and a delicate balance of weight? We start a story everytime we enter a dance situation, a strung together version of a longer epic Homer-type story that continues through the ages, forges through and chases each other like white sea-foam horses gallop and dissipate across a vast ocean. Nothing but a drop. This dance is music personified, it is a cloak we wear, which is why music is fundamental, THE core to everything. The puppet-master.

Gracias Tango por lo que me diste me diste un lenguaje  me diste un amigo me diste el amor? me diste pasión me diste llanto me diste soledad me diste envidia me diste admiración Gracias Tango por lo que me ensenaste me ensenaste que un lugar en la milonga no se compra, se gana me ensenaste a conocer gente, buena y mala me ensenaste a decepcionarme y a perdonar Gracias Tango porque me hiciste llorar reir mirar ver sentir ser… Thank you Tango for all you’ve given me you’ve given me a new language you’ve given me friendship you’ ve given me love? you’ ve given me passion you’ ve given me tears you’ ve given me loneliness you’ ve given me envy you’ ve given me admiration Thank you Tango for all you’ve taught me you’ve taught me that you earn your place on the dance floor you can’t buy it you’ve taught me to see people, good and bad you’ve taught me how to be disappointed and to forgive Thank you Tango for what you’ve allowed me to do to cry to l...

This song. This gorgeous gorgeous song. And this gorgeous gorgeous band, and these gorgeous gorgeous lyrics. I'm in love. Tibio está el pañuelo, todavía, Your handkerchief is lukewarm, still que tu adiós me repetía I kept reliving your farewell  desde el muelle de las sombras. On that shadowy dock Tibio, como en la tarde muere el sol, Lukewarm, like the dying afternoon sun mi sol de nieve, sin esperanza y sin alondras. My snowy sun, with no hope and no songbirds Tibio guardo el beso que dejaste I keep the lukewarm kiss that you left en mis labios al marcharte On my lips when you moved on porque aún no te olvidé... Because I still havn't forgotten you Tú... You yo sé que el cielo, I know the heavens el cielo y tú, The heavens and you vendrán acá para salvar Will come to save mis manos presas a esta cruz. My hands bound to this cross Si esta mentira audaz If this audacious lie busca mi pena, Seeks my pain no la descubras tú You will not discover que me condena. That it conde...

In this, my 3rd KL Tango Festival did I finally hit the right combination of feeling, fun, musicality which matched the stage I am in perfectly. In this, did I finally get that emotion and elation of what my first ever tango moments felt like. Not the grand festivals, but the small workshops, the little moments of sharing a great moment with someone. That darkened Vitosh guesthouse. It peeked around the corner, smiled at me and extended a hand and I finally, willingly got up and gave it a go. I was not disappointed. Finally.

The best tango dances are things you don't go searching for. They come out of nowhere, like 80 year old dancers in the hot environment of a Tango school in New York asking you to dance, you in your flats. You in your flats compared to the 4-inch CIF's whizzing past you. You in your flats, only a few months into this dance...yet knowing a bit more of your surroundings, being aware of the hierarchy, but not of how to handle yourself in this particular hierarchy. It's like your body is doing one thing while your mind is doing another. The best dances are not anticipated, because the more your anticipate, the more it becomes a struggle. The best dances come and make you feel like a comet whizzing through the night sky, like each of you is a twirling star in this galaxy of ours, and you're charting your own set course, never bumping into each other. Dance. Dance. Dance as though no one is watching you. Because in that moment you're in your own little universe and ...