About 90 minutes into our Tango class last night the instructor asked us, “Are you ready to really challenge yourself, to drive yourself crazy?” There wasn’t much of a response from the dozen students. I meekly muttered, “Sure…I guess.”
Up to that point we’d mostly been working on an ocho cortado pattern. At first it drove Laurel and me crazy, so that explains why we weren’t thrilled to hear that we were about to be driven even crazier.
Six simple steps. But each has to be led and followed. Laurel and I struggled to get the pattern down. Then the rhythm. Carlos and Jodi, our highly competent teachers, gave us tips.
My main problem was not following Laurel after I led a movement. I had a preconceived notion of where she should go. When she didn’t end up where I expected her to be, I had trouble adapting. I’d gotten a geometric ocho cortado pattern in my head rather than the feel of the moves, which in Tango can move any which way so long as the man and woman stay connected.
So what was the next phase of our Tango development to be? Carlos told us: “You’ve been following the ocho cortado pattern. Now, break it. Be spontaneous. Do whatever you want. Experiment. Try different things.”
Interesting. It’s easier, much easier, to follow a dance blueprint than to create your own unique movement in time and space. Yet that’s where the evolution of learning Tango takes you. And is why Carlos likes to call Tango the “Ph.D. of social dance.”
A while back I wrote about getting a glimpse of Tango Zen. That’s still what I have, just a glimpse. But finding connections between the spontaneity of dance and the freedom of churchlessness continues to intrigue me.
There’s a natural rhythm to life and the cosmos, that, when you move freely with it, feels so right. The trick seems to be not trying to mimic someone else’s pattern.
That’s why religion binds. Jesus, Buddha, Mohammad, Lao Tzu, Krishna, Moses, Kabir—they all danced to their own music. Similarly, we need to dance to ours.
Tango on, spontaneously and freely. Life is your lovely partner.
Excellent, time-tested advice. (re-ligio) derives from the Latin "to tie back to", apt in that these patterns are both binding and in need of being anchored.
Therefore, (as Lao says) how do we recognize that this is Tango, and not St Vidas'? The pattern and the non-pattern arise together. To effectively doubt that we have a broken habit, pattern or meme, we must recognize the habit for what it is, not more and not less.
The gift of doubt is purchased at the cost of understanding.
Posted by: Edward | October 12, 2006 at 09:08 AM
Edward, good points. Yes, there has to be both pattern and non-pattern to avoid chaos. An epileptic fit isn't dancing (though this pretty aptly describes my high school style).
Tango is all about fitting together a jigsaw puzzle of potential pieces. The pieces aren't anything at all; they have a definition to them. Again, if this wasn't the case you couldn't call it "Tango."
But my instructor convincingly says (I've forgotten the exact mathematical reason) that if you performed each potential Tango move--a combination of what you and your partner each can separately do--at the rate of one move per second it'd take billions of years to run through the possibilities.
There's no end to the freshness of life, it seems.
Posted by: Brian | October 12, 2006 at 10:19 AM
Dear Brian,
No doubt. (Unless I misunderstand.)
Robert Paul Howard
Posted by: Robert Paul Howard | October 12, 2006 at 01:16 PM
Oh, Edward, your last sentence "The gift of doubt is purchased at the cost of understanding" was not encased in quotation marks; therefore, I take it to be an original.
How simple; yet, so profound!
I wish I could take credit for it. As I cannot, I'm glad you brought it into my reality.
Posted by: Arlo R. Hansen | October 23, 2006 at 01:47 PM