The six pack experiment

For those who have wondering, the six pack experiment is over. The results have proved inconclusive, because many unexpected things have happened between the time I thought of this experiment and now. In other words, for the supporters of the scientific method, far too many variables were modified. For example, I hoped to keep progressing on my tango as I worked on my physical shape, but on a steady, controlled manner; I didn't expect my style to change as drastically as it did, mainly due to the Missé brothers. Whether the change is for the better or for worse is not for me to judge. Secondly, among the many changes in my life, when I first thought of doing this, I never thought I would have so many responsibilities by now. In particular, I now have a newborn child to take care of. Just kidding, I am no father yet. But I do have a full time job, which makes it virtually impossible for me to practice and dance more than twice a week, since I wake up at 5 in the morning. I haven't let this get in the way of fitness because, while there are no milongas or prácticas at five in the morning that I am aware of, the gym is open. I am in better shape than I have ever been before, but how that affects my tango I have no idea. (I will post pictures of my quasi six pack if I receive enough female requests). I will have to conduct some surveys with the local tanguera community to hear their opinion. The point is, though, I hope, that a work-health-tango balance is possible.

Invierno (Francisco Canaro c Roberto Maida)

Lyrics: Enrique Cadicamo
Music: Horacio Petorosi

Volvio el invierno con su blanco ajuar
Ya la escarcha empezo a brillar
en mi vida sin amor
Profundo padecer que me hace comprender
que hallarse solo es un horror
Y al ver como soplan en mi corazon
viento frio de desolacion
Quiero llorar
Porque mi alma lleva brumas de un invierno
Que hoy no puedo disipar

Proper spelling and English translation coming soon

Si la llegaran a ver

Si la llegaran a ver
Tango
Music: Juan D'Arienzo
Lyric: Enrique Cadícamo

Por un recuerdo que me sigue siempre,
por un pasado que borrar no puedo,
es esta pena cruel, es este gran amor,
que nunca, nunca, deja ya de florecer.
Por esos días de felices horas,
en mis desvelos, siempre, siempre están.
Tú eres mi mal sentimental
y yo un triste atardecer.

Si la llegaran a ver,
si la llegaran a hablar,
que no sepa que aún
yo tengo su querer
igual, igual clavado como ayer.
Si la llegaran a ver,
si la llegaran a hablar,
yo no quiero que le digan
de que aún está en mi corazón.


Translation:
If they get to see her

These memories that chase me
and the past that I cannot erase
are the reason behind this cruel sorrow
and this great love that will never cease to flourish.
The past days of happiness
are always with me in my sleepless nights.
You are my sentimental illness,
and I a sad dusk.

If they get to see her,
If they get to talk to her,
may they not let her know
that I still love her
just like yesterday.
If they get to see her,
or if they get to talk to her,
I don't want them to tell her
that she's still in my heart.

The importance of individuality

One criticism I recently heard about tango festivals is that it creates clones of the teachers. I appreciate the value of festivals, especially ones that bring great teachers. But great teachers teach more that proper dancing technique. They teach the mindset one must have. They teach the culture of the milonga. They teach the attitude of dancing. Etiquette. All the intangibles that only those who have danced since their childhood or even since their teenage years can understand and transmit it around the world.

Yet I also can see that there is some truth to the criticism, although it's more of a side effect than the desired effect, and it does not happen to everyone. But some students idolize their teachers to the point that they imitate their every single aspect, down to their mannerisms, their clothing accessories, and of course the way they dance, down to the way they wrap their fingers around their partner's hand. This is all good if the teachers are great. But the way I see it, it is not the best way to learn, because no matter how hard you try, no matter how good you get, the best you can be is an imitation of your teacher. And indeed, nobody can dance exactly like anybody else. Imitating everything about somebody is silly. Even if somebody dances exactly like Javier Rodriguez, they'll always be a shadow of him, because Javier Rodriguez is true to himself, he puts who he is into his dancing. And this goes for any other dancer too... I only use Javier Rodriguez as an example not only because I admire him but because there are many imitators of him in this continent. Emulating the superficial aspects of somebody's dance will not give any depth to the dance. It is nothing more than the shell of the original. The copies have not lived the same life as the original. They do not have the same values nor the same attitude towards life. And as such, all they can copy is the surface. There is no depth.

On the other side of the argument, there are dancers with plenty of individuality. They dance like nobody else. Yet they are awful. And what they dance, I don't want to call it tango, because it is a grave insult to everything I love.

Perhaps the most difficult thing in tango is finding one's individuality without falling into the trap of dancing something awful. But it is absolutely essential. I asked Gabriel Misse in a class how to develop one's individuality, and he told me that it was only through technique that this could be achieved. Indeed, I think perhaps the best way to find one's individuality is to perfect proper tango technique, and by that I don't mean the exact details of how famous tango teachers place their hand this way or the other. I mean the most basic things, like walking, embracing, and leading technique. With the right technique and the right mindset, one can put their feelings and emotions into the individuality of their dance, and perhaps this will show on the superficial details, but it will have depth.

Puente Alsina (1926)

Music and Lyrics: Benjamín Tagle Lara

¿Dónde está mi barrio, mi cuna querida?
¿adónde la cueva, refugio de ayer?
Borró el asfaltado de una manotada,
la vieja barriada que me vio crecer...

En la sospechosa quietud del suburbio,
la noche de un turbio drama pasional
y yo, desde entonces, el hijo de todos,
rodé por el lodo de aquel arrabal.

Puente Alsina, que ayer fuera mi regazo,
de un zarpazo la avenida te alcanzó...
Viejo puente, compañero y confidente,
sos la marca que, en la frente,
el progreso te ha dejado
al suburbio rebelado
hasta ayer te defendió.

Yo no he conocido caricias de madre...
Tuve un solo padre que fuera el rigor
y llevo en mis venas, de sangre maleva,
gritando una gleba con crudo rencor.

¿Por que me lo llevan, mi barrio, mi todo?
yo, el hijo del lodo, lo vengo a buscar...
Mi barrio es mi madre que ya no responde...
¡Que digan adónde la van a enterrar!

____________________________________________________

Translation

Where is my neighborhood, my beloved cradle?
Where is the cave, yesteryear's refuge?
The asphalt erased with a slap
the neighborhood that saw me grow.

In the suspicious quietude of the suburb,
the night of a murky drama of passion,
and I, from then on the son of everyone,
rolled by the mud of that arrabal.

Puente Alsina, yesteryear's lap,
all of a sudden the avenue reached you.
Old Puente, fellow and confidant,
you're the mark on the forehead
left by the progress;
the rebelling suburb
defended you in the past.

I have not known my mother's caresses...
I only had one father who was the rigor,
and in my veins flows the malevo blood
screaming a glebe with crude grudge.

Why are they taking her away, my neighborhood, my everything?
I, son of the mud, have come to find her.
My neighborhood is my mother and she no longer responds...
They better tell me where they will bury her!

The right to judge

I had been meaning to ask a friend of mine, who I know is a very competent tango salon dancer, why she teaches with a guy who dances something - I don't know what it is, but I know for sure it's not tango, yet it's labelled and marketed as tango. Said guy is a nice guy, and I'm sure he's not intentionally tricking people into thinking that what he does is tango. I'm sure that he does not know tango very much. But I know she knows tango, having her roots in Buenos Aires, travelling there once in a while and hanging out with the heavyweights of tango.

She said two things that irked me endlessly: first, that eventually everyone comes back to 'traditional', and second, which I wish to discuss in more detail, that no one has the right to judge anyone's dance. It seems like a trend in the US that tango is classified traditional or modern/nuevo, the latter having a more positive connotation. However, anyone who uses this classification has just put a big label on their forehead that says: I don't understand tango. Because tango is tango; there is no traditional/modern/nuevo. It's either tango or it's not. But more on that later.

The second argument, that no one has the right to judge anyone, irritated me because it seems like it's the political-correctness shield for mediocrity that people who are not confident about their dance use to defend themselves (An alternative argument used is "be open minded". I am very open minded, but crap is crap, no matter how open minded). I told her that she had all the right to judge his dance because she deserves a dance partner that shares her vision of tango, which I hope she has. But it goes beyond that: people learning tango have the right to see what the real tango is, and compare it to what quacks teach and call tango. People who love tango have the right to look down in disgust at those who are spreading something unpleasant looking and giving tango a bad name. Because having a competition of who can do a longer sequence of leg wraps with ganchos and colgadas and volcadas and soltadas is definitely not tango (for this is what the students end up doing, becoming clones of said teacher). People who want tango to be spread around the world the way it should be have the right to judge a teacher who does not know what they teach and harm the quality of local tango communities.

In fact, let me change that: people who love tango not only have the right to judge; people who love tango have the obligation to call out on shitty tango or non-tango.

Constructive criticism for a progressive community

Most of my posts on this blog have been about DJing or tango music, but the truth is that I don't consider the music and the dance separate entities. Sometimes, at the gym, you see people with an imbalanced body: an overdeveloped chest in comparison to the rest of his body, overly big arms compared to the shoulders, bird legs supporting a massive torso, etc. Similar things can happen to tango communities. What I have observed in my community is that people put their standards of expectation for DJs and organizers way beyond their dancing. They invest money buying CDs of rare collections. But they hardly move a finger in trying to improve their awful dance. They expect perfection from DJs. Yet their musicality is limited at best, non-existent at worst. They expect perfection from organizers. Yet they can't even behave in the milonga.

Recently, due to miscommunication between the organizer and the regular Saturday DJ, a newbie DJ had to fill in last minute. I had other plans that night, so I have no idea what was so bad about the DJing, but Mr. Dick Wipe* had to go bitch to the organizer and demanded a refund in front of the DJ. This was obviously not enough, so he had to go on Facebook to publicly bitch about it. But did he have any constructive feedback for the organizer and the DJ? Of course not. It's fine to voice some complaints when they are called for. But tolerance is also needed. Maybe the DJing was mediocre (but so is the regular DJ who is overrated above the heavens, being touted as the best DJ of the continent.... please. But this is a different story), but tolerance is called for especially for a beginning DJ. Just like followers have to tolerate his awful dancing, and just like everyone in the milonga have to tolerate his foul behavior.

Maybe the DJing was really bad - I don't know. But if that's the case, how about some constructive feedback? DJing is a shitty job... No matter how much you love the music, you have to tend to the mood of the room and the tastes of everybody. You have the responsibility of managing the energy of the crowd. And for a beginning DJ, he or she has to spend hours getting to know the music better. Don't make the job even shittier by behaving like an ass.

This is just an anecdote from my community, but I'm sure similar things happen everywhere. So please be more tolerant... and if you can't keep your mouth shut, then try to actually say something of value, something that can genuinely improve whatever it is that you don't like. Also, it's great if you want to know absolutely all tango music ever recorded that you have to spend all your money buying CDs, but that doesn't make you exempt from working on your dancing. And the fact that you have been dancing for 10 years or however long means nothing... especially if it's been a half assed effort.

Here's for a more balanced community: high standards for both music and dancing.

*Not a real name.

Stepping back

Leaders... please, please, please don't step back against the line of dance unless you're 100% sure that it's safe. If you're in front of me and you do that, I will exercise my duty to protect my partner and extend my arm to discontinue your path to step on my partner, even if that results in physical confrontation.

Volver a soñar

No sé si fue mi mano o fue la tuya
que escribió la carta del adiós en nuestro amor
No quiero ni saber quién fue el culpable de los dos
ni tengo desazones ni rencor
me queda del ayer envuelto en tu querer el rastro de un perfume antiguo
me queda de tu amor el lánguido sabor de un néctar que ya nunca beberé
por eso es que esta estrofa el muerto idilio no es afán
de hacerlo entre los dos resucitar
si acaso algo pretendo es por ofrenda al corazón
salvarlo del olvido nada más

To dream again

I don't know if it was my hand or yours
that wrote the farewell letter in our love
I don't even want to know who between us was guilty
nor do I hold uneasiness or grudge.
From yesterday, the trace of an old perfume wrapped in your love remains.
From your love, the languid taste of a nectar that I'll never drink remains.
That's why this verse is not eager to revive the dead romance between the two of us.
If I hope for something, it is as an offering to the heart,
to save it from oblivion, nothing more.

Cabeceo 102

Women: if you think you achieved cabeceo, keep eye contact and wait for the man to come up to you. It's not only a matter of elegance - because, in fact, it looks inelegant, clumsy, and even desperate to be so eager that you prematurely get up and meet the man mid way. It's also a matter of logistics: you don't know for sure if the man intended to do the cabeceo with you or the woman next to you or behind you. Save yourself the embarrassment in case the man is honest enough to tell you he meant to dance with someone else or the grudge of the other woman who might know with some certainty that this tanda was meant for her.

DJing pet peeves or things that make my blood boil when I'm on the booth

Although I try to be as tolerant as reasonable, there are certain things you can do if you want to be on my shit list. It's not a comprehensive list, but here it goes:

1. Standing on the floor with your next partner during the cortina. Though it may not seem like a great deal, it's a great disrespect to the DJ. Unless you're a psychic, you don't know what I'll play next. Yes, yes, maybe you trust me that I'll play good music. But there is hardly anything else that kills my motivation as this. How can I motivate myself to play good music if people will just dance to whatever I play, not because of what and when I play? And it's not just about that. There are some kinds of music that go better with certain partners. For example, maybe I like to dance a slow romantic tanda with A, a dramatic instrumental tanda with B, or an aggressive fast rhythmic tanda with C. Develop these tastes and take the experience to a new level (really it's not my business if people don't enjoy as much as they could, but as a dedicated DJ, I want them to). You don't even have to know what orchestra it is. Just listen to the first song for a preview of what's to come. Then choose who you want to dance with, not before. In other words, cortina means GTFO and don't come back in till I say so!

2. Dancing ugly. Troilo would have probably rolled over in his grave if he saw some of the dancing to his music last night. Yes, musical interpretation is personal and free. But some things are simply wrong. Things like poorly performed ganchos, saltos, sentadas and a bunch of other stuff that didn't even go with the music (and shouldn't be done during social dancing anyway). Maybe it would have gone well if it was later instrumental Troilo, but it was moody Troilo with Fiorentino. And please, please, please don't do volcadas... it looks ugly whenever you do it... no matter what the music. Oh and soltadas too. I just threw up.

3. Peeking into my workspace. Seriously... it's my modus operandi. I might be watching porn. Just kidding. But no, it's intrusive and rude. On the other hand, I appreciate when people come to personally thank me for the music or ask me the name of a song they like.

4. Teaching on the dance floor. This is really obvious, but people still do it. And evidently, the ones teaching on the dance floor are really shitty dancers. They're so awful that they can't get dances with good dancers, so they dance with naive young beginners. I'm all for dancing with everyone no matter their level, but you should adjust. In other words, don't try to lead a beginner to do some steps you can't even lead properly... Please... and then tell them how to do it. Yeah, instill some bad habits in the beginners, thanks a fucking lot, idiot.

5. Asking for nuevo. I won't do it.

To be continued

Sólo compasión

Yo sé que vivo arrinconado,
vencido, triste y cambiado,
pero la culpa no es tuya,
no temas ni me huyas,
que todo lo he olvidado,
ya ves, te miro sin encono,
y ahogando un llanto perdono,
no sé que siento por vos,
será ternura o amor,
o sólo compasión.

¡Compasión!,
por la que nunca comprendió mi amor,
¡compasión!,
por la que busca mi perdón,
yo que también alzo mi cruz.
Perdono cual Jesús, a Magdalena,
¡compasión!,
por la que nunca comprendió mi amor,
¡compasión!,
por la que un día se extravió,
ya te dirá mi corazón
si es esto compasión
o restos de un amor

Translation:
I know I live cornered,
defeated and changed.
But it's not your fault.
Don't fear and don't avoid me,
because I've forgotten all.
See, I look at you without spite
And drowning the weeping, I forgive.
I don't know what I feel for you,
if it's tenderness or love,
or just compassion...

Compassion!
for the one who never understood my love...
Compassion!
for the one who seeks my pardon...
I also raise my cross,
I forgive like Jesus to Magdalene.
Compassion!
for the one who one day went missing.
My heart will tell you now
if this is compassion
or just the remainders of love.