Bohemian Beginners
I’m walking quickly along a quiet back street in the wilds of N19, my ears tingling from an unseasonably cold breeze, raindrops pattering on my umbrella and a full moon hanging pendulously in the sky over Dalston Junction. I spot a red glow in a first-floor window and hear the faint but unmistakable sound of tango music. I have arrived at the most Argentine place I’ve yet encountered here in London (where I’m currently visiting from Buenos Aires), home of the aptly-named Milonga Bohemienne. There is something Alice-in-Wonderlandy about coming out of the damp London darkness into the shabby chic of this chaotically-furnished room. A Modigliani-like nude eyes me languidly from her frame above a fireplace of crackling logs.
A black cat stalks nonchalantly across the edge of the dance floor. Upstairs, in the minstrels’ gallery, a man in a suit is primping at a mirror. Emotionally intense music is playing. The leather sofas are full of quiet people intently watching the dance floor and sipping generous measures of cheap red wine.
I could almost imagine myself in Buenos Aires here. Except for the women’s pretty frocks in shades of red, black and leopard (in BA a place like this would be packed with a young crowd in jeans, harem pants and various kinds of tracksuit bottoms). And, of course, the dancing. Were this really BA, beautiful intense young professional couples would be heating up the floor with fiery, fast-paced tango. But this, as I quickly discover — and as the organiser later explicitly states — is primarily a beginners’ milonga.
I actually love the idea of this. The standard, though low, is very even. And the softly-lit atmosphere is wonderfully conducive to dancing (though I personally would have spun better-known and less dramatic, more readily danceable tangos for this inexperienced crowd). I try to see it through a beginner dancer’s eyes: the lovely, strappy heels, the women’s closed eyes and blissful expressions, the men’s faces of concentration, the light glinting off mirrors, picture frames and wine glasses. It is a place in which to be seduced by the tango.
I spot an elfin little man who seems to be having fun on the floor and whose partner never stops beaming. Here in London, I feel no compunctions about asking men to dance, so, as the first notes of a Caló tanda are sounding, I boldly stride across and invite him. He is not only unfazed, but seems delighted to be asked and leaps to his feet with a smile that makes me feel as though I have just eaten a spoonful of dulce de leche straight from the jar. He turns out to be an Argentine ex-pat and apologises immediately for not being “one of those Argentines who is a really good dancer,” since, like most of those at this milonga, he has only been dancing for a short time. But he has the advantage of knowing this music. I reflect once again on how easy it can be to enjoy dancing with someone musical, even when they lack a degree of technical proficiency. He is sensitive to my interpretation of the music too: leaving me time and space to decorate in all the places where the little runs and breaks tempt my free foot to play.
Later, I sit nursing my wine for a while, studiously avoiding eye contact with those men who hover around my chair. Despite my attempts to look aloof, some ask me to dance anyway, tapping me lightly on the arm or shoulder to get my attention. I refuse all invitations and, after a couple more tandas, change my tango sandals for trainers and head back out onto the shiny black pavements of Hackney.
Terpsichoral is a self-confessed tango junkie who lives and dances in Buenos Aires and writes a really rather splendid blog which you will find here – www.tangoaddiction.wordpress.com
Comments From Original Post
4 Responses
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For me, I must confess that if a leader is musical and has very good technique (and is not absolutely, extremely Hagrid-sized, as I am petite), there is a 99.9% chance I will love dancing with him. It doesn’t matter what style he dances, whether I have danced with him before, or what orchestra is playing. No special ‘chemistry’ is necessary. If I am at a Buenos Aires milonga where the standard is very high, I might have beautiful, wonderful dances with twenty different men in one evening (of course, in London it is more likely to be only two or three, at most).
Likewise, if a leader’s technique is poor or he is not listening to the music, no amount of ‘chemistry’ will help me enjoy dancing with him.
And, as I have an experienced eye, I can usually tell at first sight if a certain person will be a good dance partner. It usually takes only a second or two (literally) of watching.
Of course, it always take two people to create a good tango experience. If you are a beginner dancer and get to dance with someone very much more advanced than you are, you may find that you do not have a particularly blissful experience in their arms, despite your high expectations. That’s because, to create a blissful experience, it takes two. You need to be a good dancer yourself, too.
Of course, if there is dance-floor chemistry, those are the very special experiences: sheer bliss!
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"Well, I agree with all the points you had made in reference to improving your dancing, but I also think that turning down the beginners only because they are beginners is rude. And you could be missing out on some pleasant surprises as far as quality goes. It is a free country and you do not have to dance with anyone, but we all want to have more solid dancers ( as you said there are very few of them in Europe) and at the same time we shy away from the opportunity to help to create those better dancers. Then, once few of them become good dancers - do not be surprised if they stay away from you, that is the human nature for a lot of guys, even if you want to care more about dancing than pride, it is not easy to achive - the act of rejection is a major embarassment for some of us and we would not want to experience it again. As I had said before the girls with down-to-earth attitude but average skills often make more enjoyable partners than The Godesses with the attitude to match."
"I think we'll have to agree to differ on this one, Boris. I think tango is so much an activity between two people that how enjoyable and productive the dance is always depends upon both of you. If I am dancing with a very unskilled leader, I feel there is very little I can do, on my part, to improve the quality of the dance (as a leader with a less skilled follower I think you can do a little more). And if I feel I have been bullied and coerced into dancing and my partner is making me physically uncomfortable -- especially if he is using unnecessary force -- then I cannot enjoy the dance and I can well imagine that the dance is probably not that pleasurable for him either and I don't see how much he can learn from it. And that is why I don't, on the whole, dance with beginners: not because they are beginners <em>as such</em> but because I wouldn't enjoy the experience. I have to say that I never yet had the experience you mention, that a beginner guy who was aggressive about wanting to dance with me grew up into a good leader and was then able to pour scorn upon me. I think it might be a bit of a myth. Also, you repeatedly state in your comments that you do not find the more skilled followers enjoyable to dance with. So they don't enjoy dancing with you, you dislike dancing with them. But you think they should be coerced and blackmailed into dancing with you anyway. That's extremely illogical to me, as well as perverse, mean spirited and against the purpose of the dance: which is to give and receive pleasure on the floor."
"Hi all. I in general agree with terpsichoral and let me state the reasons: 1. Tango is - for me - a very intimate dance. I can only share my feelings with someone I really want to dance with. That depends on a whole bunch of factors, that I expressed in some of my blogs: http://melinas-two-cent.blogspot.com/2011/05/reasons-why-i-dont-dance.html http://melinas-two-cent.blogspot.com/2010/12/making-choices-womens-active.html 2. If I want to dance with a guy, for me is not even a matter of beginners/advanced. There are lots of "advanced" men with whom I would never want to dance, as they do not share my philosophy. If a man e.g. wants to impress me with athletic jumps and complex steps, I am not gonna dance with him - even if he's the most famous dancer in the world. In this case, I'd prefer the beginner, who walks nicely to the music. But: if the beginner cannot walk in his own axis and will pull be out of mine - I will not dance with him either. I just want to feel comfortable, especially when standing on 10cm stilettos! ;-) 3. So actually, I do not even want to talk about beginners or advanced dancers, more about different views on Tango. Someone can dance 20 years, know lots of steps and even be technically skilled - he's a "beginner" for me, if he does not know how to embrace or please a women, because he's not understood the most important idea in Tango. If there is - on the contrary - a man, who just started to dance, but already knows how to hold a women and connect to the music as well - he's quite advanced! 4. But let's stay with the traditional beginners/advanced vocabulary for a moment: It does not help a typical beginner to dance with an advanced dancer so much. It may feel good and makes sense in a way that you can show him how nice a steady embrace can feel, but: an advanced dancer will be able to "correct" all the beginners "faults" easily. The beginner will not even notice, when there is a problem. That's especially the case with beginner women who danced with really advanced male dancers. They will very soon think, that they can "follow everything easily" and need not take any classes. But if you look at the faces of the leaders, you'll see, that this is not the case. But they won't tell at a Milonga, because they are polite. 5. There are other places to give such a valuable feedback: Practicas. They are not Milongas and they should be understood as an opportunity to exchange information and skills in order to improve. It really makes sense to dance with whoever you think can profit of your knowledge or vice versa. The same with classes, where it makes absolutely sense to mix levels. We do that all the time and do not even distinguish between beginners or advanced classes - all have to work on the basics! 6. So, people have different ideas about Tango and different levels of skills. When it comes to "having fun" it makes sense to let them choose their partners in accordance to to those ideas/skills. When it comes to proper development in a learning environment, this is a whole different matter. And people will change, learn and develop: You may not want to dance with someone now, but maybe next year, because he or she changed something important. That's quite normal. And it happens the other way around: the guy I love dancing with today, may develop in total different direction and I may not want to embrace him next year. This happens as well! Good day, Melina"
"Thank you for taking the time to write this detailed and carefully thought-out reply, Melina. I think you expressed most of the points I wast trying to put across better than I did."
"How long have you been dancing for ? I am curious regards"
"Good question. I've been in Buenos Aires for five years, dancing close to full time. I had danced for a few years before that, too -- but basically when I came to BA the first thing I had to do was forget everything I had supposedly learned up to then and start from scratch. And I think I am a slow learner. To me, the question of how long someone has been dancing is not very meaningful. (It is only slightly more meaningful if you calculate it in hours of dancing, rather than in years). I've seen people with natural talent become excellent dancers after only two years (usually, admittedly, two years of pretty intense classes and practice) and I've seen other people who have been dancing very badly indeed for more than twenty years. The learning process isn't lineal -- at least, it wasn't and isn't for me. I can go for long periods without making any progress and then have what seems like a sudden breakthrough. Having said that, most people who take classes and work on their dancing a lot, become good dancers within 10 years, in my experience. And, for the first two years, most people remain at beginner level. But it does depend on the individual and their circumstances."
"you know what - I realy do identitfy with this. Especially the non linear nature of the learning process. Do you lead or just follow? warm regards Nick"
"Yes, I do lead. See <a href="http://tangoaddiction.wordpress.com/2011/04/23/gender-bending/" rel="nofollow">here</a> and <a href="http://tangoaddiction.wordpress.com/2011/08/03/same-sex-tango-for-straight-people/" rel="nofollow">here.</a>"
"I like dancing with beginners, and its not at all for conquest (at least not of her). The teachers I most admire can lead a beginning follower (or even a non-follower like myself) through a pattern, and its that kind of mastery I'm trying to develop in myself. Experienced followers have a terrible way of compensating for my own shortcomings, you see. Of course, its completely different if you are a follower."
"Good point, Ben. Though I think you also need to be careful. Sometimes, I dance at practicas with men who handle me very roughly and with excessive tension in the left arm and even force. At a practica, feedback is possible, so I usually tell them, less is more, do only the minimum amount necessary for me to understand, don't hurt me or push and pull on my arm. And they invariably say, I'm sorry, but I'm used to leading that way because if I don't apply a lot of force beginner followers won't 'get' it or be able to do the move. The first rule of tango, for me, is Do No Harm. It's more important to have a discomfort-free, pleasant experience on the floor than to do any particular move. I'm not saying this is your case at all. Just something to bear in mind."