Favourite three male dancers

When I thought of my three favourite male dancers, I had little trouble - but it took some analysis to work out why those three were so prominent in my mind.

Hugo Daniel kept repeating "intention" when I spent a number of hours working with him in 2007, and when I watch him dance, I see it, and I see the intensity of feeling that he puts into every moment.

Javier Rodriguez was a great favourite of mine back in the days when he was dancing with one of Pat's favourites, Geraldine Rojas, and what impressed me about him was his speed, his turns, his creativity, and I loved his milongas.

Finally, who could go past the late, great master of tango, Ricardo Vidort, who would lead his partner with subtle, almost imperceptible movements of his body, while his feet played out the changing rhythms of the orchestra - watch his body as he dances to Chique, then play it again and just watch his feet.



So should we try to copy our favourite dancer's or teacher's style? Not at all - even if we were remotely capable of getting close. Besides, performance and social dancing are different. Our mentors can, nevertheless, give us clues on technique and tango style, but in the end, we have to develop our own style - how we can best reflect what the music says to us, within our partner's embrace.

From Hugo I take 'intention', from Javier the creative potential in milonga, and from Ricardo subtlety & musicality. But that's just the start - tango is a never-ending road, isn't it?

Bob

Sunday night at the Czech House

If you're in Melbourne on the second Sunday of the month, head across to the Czech House in North Melbourne where Melbourne Tango hold their monthly milonga. We had a fabulous time last Sunday, and being a long weekend it finished later than usual at 1am.

The traditional Buenos Aires style milonga is organised by a passionate group of volunteers, who really look after their guests. A free lesson with guest teachers and music by guest DJs (yours truly last Sunday) make the $10 entry a steal!

Happy dancing,
Pat.

Piazzolla and Gardel: an unexpected collaboration

Just came across this interesting gem showing an unlikely and historic connection between these two giants of tango. Piazzolla also briefly demonstrates and explains the diabolically difficult instrument of tango, the bandoneon. Those who were at one of our classes in May last year when we were joined by famous bandeonista Carel Kraayenhof will particularly appreciate this videoclip.

Pat.

Favourite five

When Bob asked me to name my favourite five tangueras, I thought ... "Easy" and started rattling them off.

But very soon, it simply got too hard, too complicated. So I returned to my initial, instinctive responses - just three names. When I tried to analyse what those women have in common, it came down to technique, musicality and personal surrender to the moment (entrega). Watch them performing - their styles are very different. Seeing them dancing socially is a particular treat. Each one dances in the considerate, rather understated manner expected in the milonga setting, yet at the same time, their sheer class and elegance draw your attention straight to them. (Sadly, video footage of their social dancing is rare.) Of course, as teachers they are also much sought after.

Who are they? Click on the links and take a look at these videos of Aurora Lubiz, Lorena Ermocida and last but certainly not least, Geraldine Rojas to see what I mean.

And here's another:


I imagine they started training in some form of dance as soon as they were old enough to walk, so I shouldn't lose heart altogether!

Pat.

Improvisation - it doesn't just happen.

Ever stepped onto a milonga dance-floor, only to find that all creativity has deserted you?

Here's some advice for a start: keep it simple, focus on the music, and choose the right partner.

Let me expand on that. I recently came across a couple of references that reinforced my views on improvisation in tango, and encouraged me to keep delving into that zone where the music takes over the body.

Improvisation is not random and chaotic, says Michael Gladwell in his best-selling book, Blink. When talking about how elite basketballers train in order to play intuitively (e.g. the instant, magic pass after no more than a glance), he could be talking equally about tango dancers when he says that spontaneity is only possible after engaging in hours of highly repetitive and structured practice.

Swedish professor of psychology Anders Ericsson said that deliberate practice begins in the brain: focused, repetitive training in which the person is always monitoring their performance, correcting, experimenting, listening to immediate & constant feedback, investing a significant amount of time. For the tango dancer, that means continuing to practise tango's fundamental skills - the walk, pivots, ochos, etc., no matter how experienced the dancer is, just like concert pianists practise their scales.

Improvisation in tango appears to be under-pinned by a couple of essential elements:

1) a repertoire of well-practised movements, which could amount to no more than a good tango walk, simple ochos, changing direction, and a variety of timing to go with them, ........ or the repertoire may be more extensive.

2) an ability to really hear the music - its rhythms, melodies, moods, timing changes.

Of course, you then need to move to the next level - an ability to actually connect with the music: responding to it in a manner that reflects its rhythms & emotions, and using movements (figures or segments of figures) & timing that allow this to happen.

On the dance-floor, however, at the moment you start becoming reflective about your dance, your ability to improvise is undermined - you lose the flow. The dance then starts to take place in your head (leader's & follower's), and all creativity & the possibility of quick responses to changes in rhythm or melody are lost. For the dancer who improvises well, the responses & figures come from the body; to suddenly introduce a newly-learned, but not sufficiently practised sequence on the dance-floor, is courting failure, because introspection is bad for improvisation. Planning, calculating assessing, remembering (sequences, for example) kill improvisation. While response to music is a right-brain activity, introspection on the other hand is left-brain, and will quickly over-ride creativity. This means that thinking about or trying to remember sequences is more than just a simple distraction from the music - it actually subverts improvisation.

In other words, keep the dance simple, using well-practised movements (as opposed to 12-16 step rigid sequences), responding to the music in connection with your partner. One of the most important rules that makes improvisation possible is the idea of agreement, writes Martin Gladwell. So in tango, we probably look for partners who follow the same "rules" as us, for example in relation to embrace, lead-follow, musicality, emotional response. Is it any wonder that we may look for particular partners when a vals tanda begins, or Pugliese? Or maybe bypass a tanda that we have no feeling for?

For me, genuine improvisation will only occur when I connect with the music and I connect with my partner. From here, I'm transported into the dance by the music, with my body drawing from a relatively small bag of movements that have been embedded after several thousand uses - and only then can the experience be heightened by playing with the timing. For me, there is no other tango!

It's worth looking at videos of Buenos Aires milongueros improvising in this Tango and Chaos chapter.

Bob.