Reading The Tea

I dance because I love dancing. This might seem like an absurdly obvious observation, but it’s a concept that’s easy to loose. To me, dancing is not a sport, where I’m trying to make the better team, or like a video game, where I get to “level up” and thus face new and better leaders. Dancing is an experience. Each moment, each person.

I mention this, because I had to reaffirm this to myself recently. I’m an obsessive perfectionist who likes to improve. I spend a lot of time working on my skill and technique in dance. In turn, as I get better, I often feel like I “deserve” to dance with better leaders. I had to take out this feeling and inspect it recently, as I was feeling irritated while dancing with a beginner who cornered me into dancing. Here’s what I concluded: if I agree to dance with someone, I want to put everything into that dance, whether it is a “Tango God” dancing with me, or someone who is dancing for the first time. I want to be fully present (not scoping out my next partner) and I want the tanda to feel great for them — I want my partner to feel like he or she is a great dancer, when dancing with me. A couple weeks later, I decided to add to this. I also want to make it a great tanda for me — this goes partially with the “being present” concept. Full confession: yes, there are some people who are much more enjoyable to dance with than others. But each moment can be good.

This sounds great in theory, but breaks down with one type of dancer: dancers who try to lead more than what they really can. I have had some lovely tandas with beginners who simply walked. I have had some horrible tandas with people trying all sorts of boleos and sacadas and I’m-not-really-sure-whats-because-it’s-not-clear. Practicas and classes are a great time to work on new vocabulary. Milongas are NOT. There are also people who decide that they can jump past elementary things like “frame” and “connection” and jump right into fancy legwork. As a result, I had one leader actually loose his balance and need to steady himself on me while he had me on one leg doing a boleo. I think that leaders feel a lot of pressure to not bore a follow, but from my perspective, I’m not bored if you focus on what you can do, communicating with me, feeling the music. The fancy stuff can wait. At a milonga recently, someone I had never danced with asked me to dance, and proceded to take a very tight close-embrace. I like dancing close embrace (my preferred frame), but this lead didn’t lead from his chest. He led from his legs. You can guess the result. I tried to gently slip out to open embrace, but he held me firmly close. After flung off my axis to the point I thought that I was going to land on the floor, I put a hand on his shoulder and forced an open embrace (something I never do). “Did I almost push you over?” he demanded. “Yes,” I replied. The rest of the tanda became a game for me: he tries to push my over through poor attempts at flashy moves, I try to stay upright. I contemplated thanking him after one song, but didn’t want to embarress him, so decided to see it through. At the end of the second song, he thanked me abruptly in the middle of the floor, turned, and stalked off the floor. [For those readers who don't dance tango, it's generally insulting not to dance an entire tanda -- 3-4 songs -- with a partner. The way to end dancing with someone is to thank them.] I felt a mixture of relief and resentment at the dismissal. I’m still trying to figure out the best way to deal with this type of dancer. Would it help if someone said something to him?

 Touching animation… Necessary disclaimer that Tango Fantasia isn’t my cup of tea, but this is quite worth watching.  

(This is from a follow’s perspective, but I suspect much of it is relevant to leaders.)
    In beginning Argentine Tango classes, instructors like to remind students that it’s just walking. Everyone knows how to walk. I think that this may be necessary to prevent complete overload for people starting out. Recently though, I’ve been thinking a lot about walking. When you’re walking “normally” — out of a dance context — are you really stable?
   Stand up for a second and try something. Walk. Just your normal walk. Are you on your own axis with each step, or are you catching yourself? Isn’t walking really just a series of small falls? Now try walking again, but this time, put all of your weight directly over the supporting leg. The leg you’re on is the trunk of a tree, with roots going deep into the ground. When you’ve taken a step, you are so stable that even if someone gives you a shove, you’re able to keep standing. Grounded. On your axis. Ready to do boleos or change direction quickly.
    Here’s the paradox though: You must be fully stable, while at the same time maintaining lightness, mobility. Another visualization: your core (torso) is suspended firmly in the air by ropes around your torso. You are fully supported, so you don’t need to wobble or lean. Your shoulders are loaded on top of your rib cage with no responsibility — just along for the ride. Your legs dangle on strings from your hip sockets, like a marionette. 
   Now combine the two sensations, and you have a combination of stability and mobility. In modern dance we used to talk about finding stability through mobility, and vice versa.
     Of course, the above ignores that sometimes it’s important to have a distribution of weight on both legs, etc., etc… So many complications. But that’s what keeps it fascinating, right?

Sarah and me (photo by Dustin)

Last night, dreams of tangos past and somewhat future. Dances of forgiveness with people who weren’t quite.

I’d forgotten the joys of Oregon March. Today is drizzle dreariness, but yesterday the sun was shining and both D & I stripped down to our T-shirts on our Hill Walk. Yes, capitalization is intended. We are addicted to the walks put together by Laura Foster in Portland Hill Walks We did our 5th walk, walk 15 “Leach Botanical Garden to Mount Scott Loop.” Generally speaking, I have very little patience for guide books. This book has won me over. It’s like taking a walk with a friend. A friend who has a great deal of esoteric knowledge about the history of the area your walking through, and just happens to know all of the uses that native americans had for the specific type of fern you’re passing. Oh, and one who knows that the seemingly private drive right next to that person’s garage is actually public property, and that when you walk down it you’ll be in a tunnel of tree branches that seems right out of fairyland. Thus far we’ve done walks 1,2,4 and 6. Walk 15 had a marvelous start, wandering around the Leach Botanical Gardens and a breathtaking perspective of Portland amid all of the mountains from the Willamette National Cemetery, but the neighborhoods in between weren’t as delightful as the rest of the walks we’ve taken. It could also be that D & I both tend to hate houses that are less than 50 years old.

In the media consumption category, Lost has fully gained me back as a viewer. Yay for Brian K. Vaughn! I think (fingers crossed) that it might actually be going somewhere. Last night we watched the newest episode while sipping gin and tonics and ooh, not going to say more in case you haven’t watched it yet.

Last night D & I also watched The Big Sleep, the 1946 Bogart and Bacall film. Did you know that it could have been released in 1945? It was pushed back by the studio as they rushed to release all of the war-themed movies before they became too dated. A detective flick? It could wait. According to the commentary special feature with the film, it was a good thing for Bacall’s career. She’d been a big hit with their earlier film To Have and Have Not, but received bad reviews after her next film, Confidential Agent. Her agent contacted the director about his concerns about Bacall’s part in the original edit of “The Big Sleep,” and in January 1946 Bacall and Bogart (now a couple) shot some new scenes. While we watched I knit square 18 of my afghan. Yes, I’m very behind on posting photos of previous squares. Not to mention other knitting projects…

Recently I’ve been contemplating rock climbing as dance. Watching how people move across the routes. The light change-step across a hold. What’s the difference between climbing and dance? Could climbing be a form of dance? Is it about the intent, or the performative aspects? That falls apart a bit — in a dance class I’m not considering performance; I’m more introspective. And in the rock gym… well, I’d challenge anyone who says that some of the people climbing there aren’t performing. Something to consider more later. Concepts that help both my tango and my climbing: relax, breath, engage the core. Thought: wall as partner?

I haven’t posted for quite some time, so this is just going to be jumble of things that I’ve intended to write full posts about, but somehow haven’t found the time.

First, sympathy to everyone affected by the Virginia Tech shootings yesterday. There’s a lot to say about that, but my fingers won’t type the right things, so I’ll leave it at that.

Did the Yale Tango Festival weekend-before-last. It was my very first tango festival (Awww…)! Now I’m afraid that I’m going to become an addict. One of the highlights for me was Robin & Jennifer’s gaucho class. Now I (likely) embarress anyone with the misfortune to wait on a subway platform or elevator bank with me by practicing letting my leg have it’s own weight while swinging. Brigetta and Tomas’ milonga musicality class may just have changed my feeling about that dance forever. After a couple of classes from the school of thought where you have to keep. going. on. every. beat. sometimes. go twice. but. always. fast. I was sure that I’d never really enjoy it. They introduced the revolutionary idea of actually listening to the music, and varying speed of step accordingly (twice in a beat, every beat, every other beat, long pauses…). I lead Carlos and Tova’s turns class, but actually took away an interesting exercise that mostly pertains to follows — put all of your weight on one foot, twist your upper body 90 degrees on one directions, and let your lower body catch up. Repeat. Good obliques workout, different way of thinking about ochos.

In other tango news, I took a follower’s technique over at Dance Manhattan from Valeria. She puts so much musicality and expression into just an ocho, just a step. Tempo/ emphasis can be effective embellishments.

Since I didn’t get around to posting last Friday, the 13th, I’ll mention now that some people suffer from paraskavedekatriaphobia.

Last night I went to the  church of craft meeting in the East Village, at the lovely new Rapture Cafe. Lovely people, lovely projects, lovely cafe.

Last Friday night/ Saturday morning Dustin & I went to the last big party at 3rd Ward. As the danger parties tend to be, it was eclectic, bleary, pillowy, flashing, with lots of new friends.

Other things going on in life, decisions being made. How’s that for nice & vague? Almost a flashback to my early LJ days…

March 17th we celebrated Dustin’s b-day at relatively new b-burg spot Hope Lounge. Since it’s so new, and not even remotely Irish, we were pretty much able to take it over. It has potential as a place, provided they get new bartenders… 

After midnight Dustin, Julia, Antonio and I went around the corner to salsa at Bar Rose, where they had a live music and a lively dance floor. The guys I danced with kept asking where I was from. One guy commented that I dance “like they do at home.” (Home turned out to be Columbia.) I’m going to take that as a huge compliment. I would highly recommend going to the next event there — besides the dancing & music Bar Rose has great wallpaper and the bartender is great.

I was surprised to get an annoucement in my inbox for their next event with the above photos. I don’t even remember them being taken, though I seem to be posing… (I’m on the far right, Julia is dancing in the middle photo.) 

Looking through the fashion section of the New York Times, I came across this Viktor & Rolf’s shoe. The leather and chandelier-crystal heeled creation is inspired by ballroom dance. Right now I’m trying to imagine anyone actually dancing in it — the balance looks way off. Though fairly garish, the crystals in the heel would probably catch the light in interesting ways.

This Alexander McQueen shoe rocks the fairy-tale-princess appeal. I want to see a tango shoe designed like this… The heel and the arch are incredibly graceful, and the fluffy bit around the ankle could give a nice accent to embellishments.

At milongas, some people dance beautifully, oblivious to all but the music and the person they are dancing with. Sometimes the music/ partnership calls for fancy embellishments, sometimes simplicity and control. And then there’s the person who dances with a completely outside focus. His/her eyes dart around, making sure people are watching. He goes through every trick in his book, blithely oblivious to the music. Front side of the beat? Forget it! He’s already on the next beat! At a milonga the other night, I watched one of these dancers for a while. He’s actually a good lead, decent posture. With the right partner he sometimes seemed to hear the music a bit, but with some partners he danced as if it was a race. I’m by no means an tango traditionalist — I like experimentation and innovation — but he wasn’t doing that, he was just out of control. There was never a resting point, even when the music screamed for a moment of stillness.