HinesSight

Why I think "Our Last Tango" is such a great dance movie

Thanks to Netflix, recently my wife and I enjoyed watching "Our Last Tango," a documentary of sorts about the passionate relationship between two highly talented Tango dancers, Maria Nieves Rego and Juan Carlos Copes.

I say of sorts, because the film bounces back and forth between footage of Maria and Juan in the present day (the movie was released in 2016) when they were 80 and 83, respectively, videos of them performing when younger, and reenactments of memorable moments in their relationship by four skilled Tango dancers -- two for their early years together, and two for their later years.

It's a creative way to tell their story. 

Maria is more compelling than Juan as she speaks about how they met and fell in love, as well as hate. Maria makes clear that her constant lifelong love was for Tango, though she also loved Juan when she wasn't hating him. Their relationship was complicated, though also simple in a way, since both Maria and Juan weren't shy about expressing how they felt.

Which is the mark of artists. 

Crazily, my wife and I took Argentine Tango lessons some years back, even though our partner dancing experience up to that point had been very minimal, just some West Coast Swing classes, if I recall correctly. 

I soon learned from our instructors that Argentine Tango is akin to a Ph.D. level form of dance. And we were first-graders, basically.

Still, we enjoyed the classes. Except when we didn't. I learned quite a bit about leading and following, which stood me in good stead when Laurel and I took a series of ballroom dancing classes -- American Tango, Salsa, Waltz, West Coast Swing, Nightclub Two Step, Rhumba, and others.

Dancing really is addictive, something that comes across strongly in "Our Last Tango."

The thing with Argentine Tango, insofar as I understand it, is that it is almost completely led and followed. Meaning, you can't count on patterns to get you through a dance. Ideally there has to be a strong, intimate connection between the leader and follower, even if you have just met.

Here's some of the blog posts I've written about Argentine Tango.

Tango, where men lead and women follow
Dancing through life the Argentine Tango way
Tango, a three minute love affair
l jump back into Argentine Tango, again a beginner
In Tango, as in marriage, the man is always wrong

Laurel and I no longer are dancing mainly due to foot and leg problems. But maybe one day we'll put our dancing shoes back on. I was impressed by how fit Maria and Juan look in the movie, given their over-80 ages. They've continued dancing, and obviously quite well, which is a testament to the ability of dance to keep us mentally and physically fit.

After watching "Our Last Tango" I"m going to experiment with doing my Tai Chi, a passion for the past sixteen years, to Tango music. My intuition is that there is something to the notion of Tai Chi Tango. And I can do it myself, no partner required.

And having become a 71 year-old TikTok addict, I've started to learn some Shuffle moves, a simple dance that I've enjoyed seeing in numerous TikTok videos, demonstrated, not surprisingly, by much younger people. Twenty Shuffle variations are shown in this YouTube video, I've more-or-less learned the first.

Here's the trailer for "Our Last Tango," which I note from Rotten Tomatoes only made $99,928 in its release in theaters. Which shows that movie profits don't equate to entertainment value.

Love this fat guy dancing video... inspiring!

Thanks to Lora Lamon of Salem's RJ Dance Studio for sharing this marvelous video. On her Facebook post Lora said:

All you guys who think you're too cool to dance . . . . get over yourselves. Here's a guy who is totally comfortable in his own skin. I laughed. I cried. I applauded. I LOVED IT !!

Yeah, me too. The fat guy is a really good dancer. And I bet, a really good person. He sure brought some joy into my life today.

 

West Coast Swing is our new dancing thing

We live on the West Coast. We like swing dancing. But my wife and I have had a tough time getting into the West Coast Swing style.

Over the years we've had several lessons. Even a four-week series. The dance just never "set in" with us.

Until recently we'd forgotten almost everything we'd learned about West Coast Swing. So when we'd go to a open social dance night at the RJ Dance Studio here in Salem, and the DJ would call out "west coast swing" as a new tune started, we'd sit down and watch other people dance what looked to be a cool, fun style.

Finally the sitting got excessively tiresome. Last week we had a private one-hour lesson with Kathy Carter, who teaches West Coast Swing along with Jason Carter. She got us doing some basic moves that had slipped from memory: sugar push, left side pass, right side pass/overhead turn.

After the lesson, when I asked her what instructional DVDs she'd recommend, Kathy mentioned Myles Munroe, a Canadian swing champion. Good tip. 

As soon as I got home I fired up You Tube and found this highly engaging short video of Munroe dancing with Tessa Cunningham. Wow. Give me 50% of Myles' style, and I'll sell my soul to the devil. 100%, and I'll throw in my wife's and dog's souls.

Eagerly.

 

Learning about Myles' and Tessa's "West Coast Swing: Starter Kit" video via their web site, I ordered it. Haven't mastered all the basic moves yet, but Laurel and I have made a decent start. With Kathy's help, of course. 

Tonight we had another private lesson. Then Jason took over, guiding us through 40 minutes of beginner instruction prior to the RJ Dance Studio's monthly West Coast Swing night. 

It's a challenging dance. Being basically a slot dance, where the woman travels back and forth while the man moves side to side, the partners usually are doing different steps -- not mirroring each other, as in other ballroom dances.

So we've just taken some baby steps toward becoming West Coast Swing dancers. Already though, I'm getting hooked on both the music and the moves. I found a web site that lists contemporary West Coast Swing music.

My iPhone now is loaded with Lady GaGa's "Just Dance," "Bad Romance," and "Poker Face." Plus Madonna's "Hollywood." I sugar push away on our kitchen floor, trying to get the walk, walk, triple step, triple step rhythm embedded into the swing dance part of my brain.

Here's another Myles Munroe video, dancing with a different partner. Way cool. 

 

Two year old who can dance better than me

Oh, great.

Just what my 63-year old mildly-competent-at-ballroom-dancing insecure self didn't need to see today: a You Tube video of a 2 year old who can dance the jive better than I can. 

 

Geez. He probably can write blog posts better also. 

Young girls who dance like Tina Turner. What's up?

Today my wife, Laurel, and I got our first look at big-time children's dance competition. We spent most of the day watching the Los Angeles regionals of The American Dance Awards, held in Lake Elsinore, California at Lakeside High School.

Our four-year old granddaughter apparently was the youngest contestant, dancing in two six-and-under categories (small group tap and small group jazz).

We loved every moment of the dancing.

My daughter was fearful that we'd get bored with the all day competition. Early on she slipped me her car keys, figuring that Laurel and I would want to head someplace else while we waited for our granddaughter's dances, scheduled for 12:45 and 4:25 pm.

No way.

Aside from a lunch break, we were glued to our seats in the auditorium. After almost every performance I'd say things to Laurel like: "Wow!" "Amazing!" "Unbelievable!" "That looked professional!" "So cute!" and other exclamations of wonderment.

The dancers, mostly girls but also some boys, ranged in age from four to twenty-one. Their energy, skill level, enthusiasm, charisma, and overall watchability was exceptional. We expected to see some good dancing.

What we got was great dancing.

However, in case any parents of certain eight and under girls were sitting behind me, I want to explain why I laughed (not very loudly, but almost uncontrollably) during some of their performances. I wasn't laughing at their dancing, which was terrific.

What almost brought tears of hilarity to my eyes was the sight of little girls doing a highly credible impersonation of Tina Turner shaking it. 

Now, I'm old enough to have seen Tina Turner perform in person at the Winterland in San Francisco sometime in the late 1960's. At least I think that's where it was. Much of the 60's is a brain-blur to me, for reasons that should be obvious.

Young people can get a taste of Turner on You Tube, which includes being able to watch Beyonce perform "Proud Mary" at a Tina Turner tribute in a fashion that does Tina proud.

 

Today I was awestruck at how little girls just a few years older than my granddaughter could dance so Tina Turner/Beyonce'ish -- complete with "big girl" makeup, costumes, and pouty demeanor. At first my mind bounced back and forth between wow, that's so wrong! and wow, that's so right!

It didn't take long for me to settle in on so right!

The little girls clearly were enjoying themselves. They were getting to play dress-up on a big stage in front of an appreciative audience. They obviously had practiced long and hard. There wasn't anything remotely lewd or sexual about their dancing.

I just kept thinking, "Wow, you've come a long way, baby." Back in my California childhood days, few kids danced at all. We were forced to learn some square dancing during P.E. in high school, all prim and proper. 

Nobody would have believed that in 2012, girls eight and younger would be made up with lots of eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick, then shake their child bodies in glittery, skimpy outfits like twenty year-olds at a nightclub. But, hey, why not?

The kids I watched today were having fun. No matter what their age, it looked to me like the music they were dancing to, and their dance moves, were what they wanted to do. Sure, their dance instructors did most or all of the choreographing. They know, though, what appeals to children nowadays. 

Hip-hop culture, and it's jazzy variants, seemingly has spread to every dancing age group. I say, great. The dances I watched today brought smiles and energy to my social-security eligible body. Keep it up, kids. 

If you want to dance like Tina Turner, go for it. Even if you're five years old.

Dance tip is a life lesson: seek quality, not quantity

Learning ballroom dancing with a partner is a cheap way to get some psychotherapy. A dance instructor usually charges less than a counselor. Plus, you get to listen to music and have fun while you're getting insights into yourself.

I've blogged about my fascination with leading and following, which touches on the core of male/female relating. But today my wife and I had a dance lesson that focused on how I relate with Me, an even more intimate relationship.

We've been taking some private lessons with Salem's Debra Seeck, also known as Mz. Jitterbug. She's given us some good Salsa and Swing tips, along with pointing out to me how I need to do a much better job of listening to the music and recognizing a rhythm.

Today, though, Debra started off by challenging my basic dancing attitude.

"I've watched you at a social dance, Brian. You're worried about keeping up with other dancers who can do more moves than you. You compare yourself with them, and that distracts you from focusing on the only person you should be relating to: your wife, your partner."

I nodded. I agreed. This wasn't exactly news to me.

But Debra was talking about my skewed attitude toward dancing in a fresh fashion. Her passion about relating on the dance floor -- with your partner, through the medium of music -- got through to me.

"I'd much rather dance with a guy who only knows a few moves, but is into the music, and most importantly, into me while we're dancing, than with a man who does a lot of flashy stuff, preoccupied with trying to look good, who lacks musicality," she said.

"You've got four minutes with your wife while a song plays," Debra added. "It's all about her. Don't pay attention to anyone or anything else. None of us knows when death will come. Maybe this will be your last dance. You don't know. Make it special. Make it real. Be there for her, even if you're just leading a few simple moves."

Beautiful. 

Debra had me pegged. I'm not very musical, though I have a decent sense of rhythm when I pay attention to a beat. I'm competitive. And I like to learn new dance moves, even when I haven't mastered the ones I already know.

Isn't this a lot like life? Not just my life. Almost everybody's life. 

We aren't content with doing just a few things well, rather than many things mediocrely; with having just a few intimate friends, rather than many shallow acquaintances; with enjoying just a few pleasurable material goods, rather than gobs of needless clutter; with embracing the here and now as it is, rather than an imagined past or future.

Quality. Not quantity. 

This is really the essence of what dance instructor Debra was trying to get across. (Which reminds me of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," since quality is a recurring theme in the book.)

Marcel Proust sagely advised, "The voyage of discovery is not seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes." Which is another way of saying, It isn't so much what we do, but how we do it, that's key to a satisfying life. 

And to satisfying dancing. One of our Argentine Tango instructors was fond of saying, "Tango is simple. It is walking with a woman so she will fall in love with you." (At least for as long as the song lasts.)

Today, before we got going on the dance floor, Debra showed Laurel and me a You Tube video that she liked a lot. It's of Nicholas King and Cameo Cross winning the Jack and Jill 2011 US Open Swing Dance Championship.

Debra explained that "Jack and Jill" is when two competitors are randomly assigned and don't know what music they'll be dancing to. So this requires strong leading and following skills, since the dancing isn't choreographed. Debra loved how Nicholas is totally focused on Cameo. In return, she trusts him completely, as evidenced by some pretty amazing moves that she flows smoothly with.

Have a look. This is how dancing should be danced, and living should be lived. 

 

I jump back into Argentine Tango, again a beginner

For me, Argentine Tango offers up a glimpse of what it must be like to have mild Alzheimer's.

I've had a bunch of classes in this challenging dance style, starting over five years ago (see "We tango, and also get tangled"). Yet when my wife and I are in an off phase of our off-and-on relationship with Argentine Tango, almost instantly I forget just about everything I knew about how to dance it.

The main reason is that Argentine Tango is the most spontaneous and unpatterned of partner dances. I'm at least mildly competent in quite a few ballroom styles -- waltz, foxtrot, swing, American tango, salsa, cha-cha-cha, hustle.

But Argentine Tango is a whole other dance animal.

So far I haven't been able to tame it. I'm pretty sure this is because of the nature of the beast. Other styles have a basic rhythm and step pattern that offers a "leash," so to speak, that both the leader and follower can hold on to.

Argentine Tango, not nearly so much. As noted in this post:

The essence of Tango is simply walking. As Carlos, another instructor, told us: "Guys, Tango is simple. It's just walking with the woman in a way that will make her fall in love with you." (For the duration of the dance, at least.)

What I discovered last night -- again -- at the first session of Tango4Salem's Beginner Tango Intensive at the Middle Earth Dance Studio is that "simply walking" with a partner isn't simple at all.

However, Frank and Karen Davis, the instructors, did a great job of introducing (or reintroducing) me and my classmates to Argentine Tango.

Like I said, every time I meet up with this dance style again, it feels like the very first time. Basic lead and follow practice was both fun and challenging. I'd done the drills before, yet right from the start I realized why I needed to do them again... and again... and again.

Tonight I re-read my "I'm learning to tango with life" post from 2006. What I said then makes just as much sense to me now.

The fresh insight that I got from Carlos and Jodi is that however I dance with a partner is a reflection of how I dance with myself. Whatever problems I have dancing Tango are intimately related to the difficulties I have partnering with me.

Frank pointed out several problems with my Tango'ing that elicited a hearty right on in my mind. I wasn't projecting enough leader-energy through my chest, which makes it tough for the follower (usually, a woman) to sense my intention.

I wanted to blame this fault of mine on Tai Chi, because in this movement art one's energetic center is nearer the waist/abdomen, whereas in partner dancing the upper body needs to do the leading or male and female knees are going to collide.

But the truth is that I'm often overly tentative, both on the dance floor and in everyday life. I secondguess myself; I overanalyze; I ponder options rather than intuitively choosing a course.

On a recent Hawaiian Airlines flight to Maui I watched "The Tourist." I liked the movie, though it got mostly mediocre reviews. A favorite scene featured Johnny Depp, the (seemingly) mild-mannered tourist, meeting super-hot Angelina Jolie on a train to Venice.

She tells him he should arrange for them to have dinner together. Depp says, "Will you have dinner with me?" Jolie replies, "That's a question. Women don't like questions. Try again."

"I want you to have dinner with me." But there's a question mark at the end of his words, the way he says them. "Not good enough," Jolie tells him. "You and I are having dinner in the dining car," Depp finally says confidently. "I'd love to," she says.

(This isn't exact, just the way I remember the scene.)

I thought of the movie last night, as Frank was encouraging me to be more energetic and bold with my leading. There's a place and time for asking questions of a woman, but that isn't on the Argentine Tango dance floor -- where the man proposes what to do, and the woman follows.

Here's the thing, though: after the man leads and the woman follows, the man becomes the follower.

Meaning, he needs to let her finish her moves, whatever they are. So there's a constant interplay of yin and yang for both the leader and follower; each has to be attuned to the other, sensitive to what his/her partner is doing.

Just as in life.

For me this is the biggest fascination of Argentine Tango, what keeps bringing me back to this dance even though I'm perpetually perplexed by it.

Tango is a marvelous reflection of ourselves. How we move on the Argentine Tango dance floor will tell us a lot about how we move through life, including how we relate to other people.

[Update: I found the actual dialogue from "The Tourist." I didn't do too bad in my recollecting. Forgot the too demanding line, which also is a no-no when leading in dance.]

Elise: Invite me to dinner, Frank?
Frank Taylor: What?
Elise: [gives him a look]
Frank Taylor: Would you like to have dinner?
Elise: Women don't like questions.
Frank Taylor: Join me for dinner.
Elise: Too demanding.
Frank Taylor: Join me for dinner?
Elise: Another question.
Frank Taylor: [thinks for a moment] I'm having dinner, if you'd care to join me.
Elise: [smiles at him]

Learning the Hustle offers lesson in living

For me, learning how to dance means a lot more than just gaining some skills in moving around the hardwood to music. After all, life is a dance. And dancing is part of life.

Last night Laurel and I had a private Hustle lesson with Lora at Salem's RJ Dance Studio. Lora has an impressive background in dance and music. At this stage in our dancing lessons, her central critique of me -- which is entirely accurate -- is that often I don't follow the beat or rhythm of a dance.

I'm pretty good at getting steps down, though. With all the katas/forms I've learned in twenty years or so of martial arts training, I can visualize patterns pretty well, and hook them together fairly smoothly and spontaneously.

My downfall is rhythm, because unlike Lora, I'm musically handicapped. Early on in our lesson Lora pointed out how I wasn't making each of the two "quick" steps in Hustle dancing twice as fast as the two "slow" steps.

She said that this is the most important thing in dancing: respecting the character of a particular dance. A waltz and a foxtrot share many of the same patterns, but the rhythm is different. They shouldn't look the same (though when I dance them, sometimes they do).

It got a little irritating when Lora agreed with Laurel's suggestion: "I should count out the rhythm aloud until Brian gets it." So for quite a while I had to listen to sloooow, sloooow, quick, quick, sloooow, sloooow, quick, quick.

(Obviously it doesn't work to just say "slow, slow, quick, quick" if each of those words is uttered at the same speed, which is another problem I'm prone to.)

Here's a connection between dance and life as a whole: Lora told us that if you keep to the rhythm of a song, it doesn't matter a whole lot what steps you take. I notice this on "Dancing With the Stars" and "So You Think You Can Dance."

Sometimes a Cha-Cha, or whatever, will hardly have any moves that are traditional in the dance. At least, I don't see ones I'm familiar with. But the performers are so skilled, they make the dance look great by sticking with the rhythm while doing some wild and crazy (to a traditionalist) steps.

On the dance floor, I get focused on steps, just as in life, I get focused on the activities that I'm doing. I often lose my focus on simply moving to the rhythm -- of a song, or of my inner drummer, as Thoreau put it.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.

Sure, sticking to patterns is important. Movement with either a dance partner or what life requires of us each day would be difficult, if not impossible, without habits, repeated steps, familiar routines.

But what makes dancing, and living, genuinely pleasurable isn't what we're doing, but how we're doing it. Once Laurel and I took a dance lesson from a woman who looked like she was dancing even when she walked "normally."

Actually, the way she walked wasn't normal at all, in the sense of average. Every step she took was with a dancer's style. Assured, confident, balanced, sensuous. Just walking across the floor at the start of the class screamed Dancer!!

She didn't need to introduce herself as the instructor. One look at one step of hers told me, "This woman knows how to move."

We all can do this, just as Thoreau said, by stepping to the music that we hear. Even, or especially, if it is different from what everyone around us is moving to. Now, this may seem at odds with what I said before about sticking to the rhythm of a dance. But it really isn't.

Lora had me fill in a blank last night. She said, "The reason it is really important for the man to keep the rhythm of a dance is because..."? I knew the answer: "He's the leader!"

"Right," she told me. "So, do it."

When you're moving with another person on the dance floor, or in life, there has to be common ground between you.

Harmony. Mutually acceptable patterns. When I raise Laurel's hand, that's a signal for her to turn. I know that; she knows that. We move to the beat of the same music, following steps familiar to both of us.

However, in life as a whole there is much more opportunity for individualism. Writing this blog post while drinking a glass of red wine, I'm dancing with myself, with my own thoughts. My wife is in another room, doing her own thing.

I never really know what I'm going to write when I start writing, just as I don't really know what I'm going to do when I start on my day's to-do list.

What matters -- or rather, should matter -- is how well I'm able to flow from one moment to another, maintaining at least a semblance of the harmony, energy, passion, and centeredness I saw in every step the aforementioned dance instructor took.

By the end of last night's lesson I was feeling much more comfortable with the Hustle than when I walked in the door of the RJ Dance Studio. I'd only learned a few new moves, but my improved ability to move to the disco'ish music was what made our dancing more fun.

I drove home listening to Generation Disco 2, an inexpensive iTunes album that I'd downloaded to my iPhone for Hustle practicing. It was happy music, and I was in a happy mood.

Sticking to the beat will do that -- bring happiness. Listen to the music, whether it is playing through speakers or your own mind. Focus on the essential rhythm and don't worry too much about what specific steps you're taking.

Just dance. The steps will take care of themselves.

Ballroom dancing restores yin-yang balance

Guys, if you need a reason to take ballroom dance lessons, here it is: the woman has to do what you want. You lead. The woman follows. End of story.

Until you get off the dance floor.

Then your relationship goes back to normal. But as our instructor likes to say, "On the hardwood, the man holds the remote control; once a couple leaves the studio and steps on the rug, anything goes."

Well, over 99% of the time I hold the remote control at home also. And I do the car driving about that percentage as well. It just seems natural to me. To my wife, Laurel, also, or I wouldn't be changing channels and holding the steering wheel so much.

After four years of dance lessons, I'm still fascinated by the whole "man lead, woman follow" thing, which I've blogged about here, here, and here.

Laurel and I just finished an East Coast Swing series of lessons. We had a good time, falling into our usual strengths and weaknesses. I'm most competent at remembering moves and step patterns, which is essential for leading. Laurel is better at keeping in time with the music, and getting the feel of a dance style down.

Together, we balance each other out.

I'll correct Laurel when she forgets a step, and she'll remind me when I've lost the rhythm of a song (often because I'm concentrating too much on leading the movements).

Whenever we go dancing, I end up feeling that some sort of cosmic yin-yang equilibrium has been restored. Around the house Laurel often takes the lead, while I follow along in a husbandly "yes, dear" mode.

That's fine.

But on the dance floor I enjoy making the decisions. Plus, there's no decision about who's going to make the decision. The man leads and the woman follows in ballroom dance.

Sweet and simple.

For both the man and woman. I'm all for gender equality...when it makes sense. However, men and women are different (to state the obvious).

As Johanna Siegmann writes in “The Tao of Tango":

Leading is male energy; so the male always begins because men have dominant male energy. Following is female energy, so women follow because they have dominant female energy.

Dominant does not mean total or entire. In the context of our natural balance of our energies, it means the major portion. In the context of Tango, it means that once the man leads and the woman follows, the woman must complete the step and the man must wait.

The energies are shifted. Doing the step: male energy. Waiting for the step to be complete: female energy. They shift back and forth…Tango helps us get balanced because it requires the highest level of communication without words. It also requires us to use both these energies, and so develops them.

Yes, we're talking about the dominant side of most men and most women. A man has to be able to follow his partner on the dance floor, just as a woman needs to be able to lead in her own fashion.

Yet the basic male/female energies are decidedly different.

I believe that's a big part of the reason why ballroom dancing is so satisfying for a couple. It highlights the natural "Me Tarzan, you Jane" distinctions between a man and a woman. 

A man feels more masculine, a woman more feminine. That's erotic.

I feel a subtle sensual tingle in my psyche when our instructor says, "Girls, you've got to keep your left hand available in case your man asks for it," or "Guys, your girl isn't going to know where you want her to go if you don't lead that turn decisively."

Women often worry too much about what to do, or what needs to be done. On the ballroom dance floor they can leave that aside: just follow what the man leads.

Men often are concerned about seeming too controlling in a relationship. When dancing they can relax and simply take charge for a while. 

So if you've been thinking of taking some dance lessons, do it. It'll be good for your yin-yang balance.

Bliss: front row seats at Champions of the Dance

Last month I bought myself a birthday present: front row center seats for Champions of the Dance, which we saw last night at the Hult Center in Eugene.

Excellent ticket-buying decision.

There's a time to be at least a few rows back in a large auditorium, so you can get the stage's big picture. But not for a professional ballroom dancing show which mostly featured one couple onstage at once.

We hugely enjoyed Champions of the Dance. The quality of the performers didn't seem quite up to the level of the finalists in The American Ballroom Challenge, which we've watched on PBS the past few years.

But they were darn good.

 
Maria Damalas was my favorite, for reasons that would be even more readily apparent than you can judge by this photo of her if you picture her dressed in a skin-tight body stocking rather than a dress.

Near the end of the show (thankfully, because it prevented my blood pressure from continuing to rise into a danger zone) Maria turned her back to the audience and performed a booty-shaking shimmy that was a marvel to behold.

You can get a flavor of what this level of ballroom dancing is like via a video of some American Ballroom Challenge competition. I've got some of these performances copied on DVD. (The Latin action that starts at about the 56 second mark is way cool.)

The moments when Maria -- to offer an example that comes readily, really readily, to mind -- danced near the edge of the stage and projected one of her intense sultry, sensual looks taught me a lot about professional dancing that isn't apparent from TV watching.

These dancers are into it. 100%. They don't hold anything back. When they move, everything moves. Every part of their body. Along with their mind, personality, emotions.

This morning I came across a passage in a Zen book. 

Whatever you do
if you do it wholeheartedly,
it is perfect.

Guess that helps explain why the dancers we watched last night looked so perfect. Their perfection wasn't just a lack of missteps, but also was reflected in how they committed themselves so completely to each and every movement.

Laurel and I were surprised by how expressive the dancers' mouths were. Lots of opening and closing, which at first seemed a bit fakey to me.

But then I saw their ever-moving faces as part and parcel of their ever-moving legs, arms, torsos, and other body parts. Most of us preserve a "poker face" pretty much as we go through our day, not allowing our feelings to be openly apparent.

With these dancers, though, the music meshed with their mood, which meshed with their movements, which meshed with the entire atmosphere in the auditorium.

Wonderful.

As was the rest of our Eugene experience, a town we don't visit as often as we should. Started at Vero Expresso House: great lattes and scones. Then had an enjoyable vegetarian dinner at Ratatouille, a few blocks away.

 
Champions of the Dance was dessert. I did a lot of drooling.

Tai Chi African dancing...only in Salem

Well, that was different. And fun.

Doing Tai Chi to an African'ish drum beat. Learning a few Zambian dance steps from Mary, a visitor to our class who is finishing up a Ph.D. in fisheries science from Penn State.

Mary's education has been supported by the Elizabeth Bowers Zambia Education Fund. Gerry, a fellow Tai Chi student, and his wife started the Fund in memory of their daughter.

It's a great cause that Laurel and I contribute to each year. A little $$$ goes a long way, when its helping Zambian girls get an education.

Mary gamely followed along with unfamiliar Tai Chi moves for the first part of the class. Then Warren, our instructor, asked her to show us some African movement. Mary said she needed music to dance.

No problem.

Warren's wife is a Taiko drummer (way cool). Drums are kept at the studio, so soon I was trying to mimic Mary's moves as Warren and a student kept up a beat.

I was kind of glad she had her back to me. This old Oregon white man doesn't move like a youthful Zambian black girl.

But really, who cares? That's a big part of what I've learned from the dance lessons Laurel and I have been taking the past few years.

You've got to dance as if no one is watching you.

Which, usually, nobody is -- though you may feel like a spotlight is focused on your unsteady steps. Dancing is largely about letting go...of ego, tension, anxiety, tentativeness.

I enjoyed thinking, "Wow, is there any other place in the world where Tai Chi is being practiced to an African rhythm right now?"

Almost surely not. Salem had a moment of uniqueness tonight.

After the class was over Connie, one of the most experienced Tai Chi'ers, showed me a story that was in the East Salem edition of the Statesman Journal.

Glancing at the photo that accompanied it, I recognized a good friend: me! Plus, the back of Laurel's head.

Someone had told us about the photo when the story came out on December 17. But since we don't get the East Salem version of the newspaper I'd given up hope on seeing what we looked like.

Not bad.

This was taken during our RJ Dance Studio basic swing class. I didn't expect to make it into the paper after I exhibited an excessive degree of enthusiasm for having my picture taken.

Lora, our dance instructor, began the class by introducing the photographer and saying, "If anyone doesn't want to be in a photo, just let him know."

I couldn't stop myself from blurting out, "Oh, no -- I love to be photographed, please, me, me, me."

When the class started I noticed that the guy seemed to be taking pictures of everybody but me and Laurel. I figured that my me, me, me had blown our chances for appearing in the newspaper.

Yet there we are (in the background, but hey, that still counts).

We're eager to take more dance lessons in 2009. So far we're the first to sign up for a beginning Salsa class.

Come on Salemites...get out and learn to dance! You'll be better prepared next time a Zambian girl shows you some moves in your Tai Chi class.

Ballroom Tango taking the lead from Argentine Tango

Only for Laurel and me, I have to say right off -- before the title of this post sends Argentine Tango aficionados into a frenzy. Many of those who dance the Argentine version of Tango are really into it, which is great.

What the world needs now, as always, is more dancing fools.

When the economic times are bad, troubles are easily forgotten when the music starts up and two bodies begin to move in harmony (or, in our case, semi-harmony).

We've just taken another turn on our dancing path.

After some West Coast Swing classes we jumped into Argentine Tango lessons for the better part of a year. Then we flipped to American Tango, the ballroom counterpoint to the greater closeness and smaller moves of Argentine Tango.

On my urging, we gave Argentine another try via some lessons offered by the Tango4Salem group that's started up in town. After making it through a beginner series, we moved on to the intermediate class.

I've learned a lot, as has Laurel. The basics of partner dancing, such as leading and following, apply to every style. The instructor, Elizabeth, pointed out that I'd been leading too much from the lower half of my body rather as a whole-person movement.

This went a long way toward explaining why our feet would get tangled at times. My legs would start moving before Laurel got the message from my chest where we were heading.

But insights like that had to be balanced against another fact: Argentine Tango is damn difficult. There's a reason we kept being told in our first exposure to the dance, "Argentine Tango is the Ph.D. of partner dancing."

It is, in our admittedly shallow exposure to some ballroom styles: Waltz, Foxtrot, Nightclub Two-Step, Swing, Salsa, and, of course, American Tango.

Like I said before:

I'm no ballroom dance expert, that's for sure. However, I can say from personal experience that if you've tried Argentine Tango and found it too difficult, given American Tango a try. There's more structure, as most patterns we've been taught hold to the eight counts in the basic movement.

Quick (Q) is one count. Slow (S) is two counts. The basic pattern is S, S, Q, Q, S (eight counts). A rock step also is S, S, Q, Q, S. But a box turn is Q, Q, S, Q, Q, S. Also eight counts, with a different beat.

I'm not at all musical; I'm a bit more mathematical. So my male brain resonates with the eight count patterns in beginning/intermediate American Tango. I can dance along softly muttering to myself, "quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow."

With Argentine Tango, I often was muttering also. However, it was more like "what the heck…now what?...oops, that didn't work…" Lora tells us that we'll eventually be able to throw Argentine moves into our American Tango. So all that earlier muttering won't be wasted.

Here's another description of the difference between Ballroom and Argentine Tango by someone who knows a lot more about dancing than I do. He makes some of the same points, though.

We're going to return to concentrating on American Tango and other ballroom dances now. It'll be possible to meld some of the Argentine Tango techniques we've learned into the ballroom style. Maybe someday we'll return to get our Ph.D., but for now elementary school feels more fun.

Tonight we finished up a four-week Basic Swing class at the RJ Dance Studio. It's been a kick (so to speak).

What I'm always struck by, when we learn a new dance, is how the first class or two is the most flowingly enjoyable. All I know is a few moves, so there isn't much decision-making for me as the leader. Option A, B, or C. That's about it.

With Argentine Tango, there's always a multitude of possibilities. It doesn't follow a defined rhythm, nor specified steps. Improvisation is the primary rule (or non-rule).

Dancing in this fashion is marvelous, when it works. However, it takes a lot more skill and experience than dancing rhythmically to mostly patterned moves.

Laurel and I enjoyed our final swing class tonight. Per usual, I did best when I did the least. We had the most trouble with what I think is called an "overhead slide." You've seen it -- looks way cool when it works, which much of the time it didn't for us.

Timing is sort of tough. Especially when you think about each move. "Let's see, slow, slow, quick, quick; raise both arms on second slow, step out on first quick, slide arms on second quick; or was it...?"

Then the clock hit 9:00. Quitting time. Swing music was still playing. I grabbed Laurel and gave it one more try, not thinking much about it.

"Hey, that felt good!" she exclaimed. "You do the best when you just do it."

Yes. Such is the never-ending lesson of dance. And of life.

“Naughty toddler” Tango teaches a life lesson

What to do when life pushes you around? Resist? Give in? Something else?

Great questions. Because unless you're in a coma, or have attained Buddha nature, every day there's going to be times when you feel like life is a naughty toddler who screams No! at your oh-so-reasonable request.

Last week's Argentine Tango class taught me a valuable lesson, adding on to what I learned from instructor Elizabeth Wartluft before (check out her blog).

She had us practice "Naughty Toddler" Tango. Usually in dance the follower does her best to comply with her partner's lead. But in this exercise the follower was supposed to do anything but what was being led.

At first Laurel was resistant to playing this dance game. "This is silly," she said. "Come on, give it a try," I urged. And oh boy, did she!

After the music started it took Laurel about two seconds to fully embrace her inner naughty toddler. She was resisting me beautifully. If I tried to take a forward step she'd move backward. If I stopped, she kept going. If I attempted to lead her to the left, she'd go right.

Most of the other women were naughty toddler'ing with equal abandon. I saw a sweet young thing throw her guy right through a doorway with the force of her No!

It took me a while to figure out how to handle Laurel.

Elizabeth had laid down a few rules. The leaders weren't supposed to use raw strength to wrestle the follower back in line – just as you wouldn't manhandle a recalcitrant three year old (especially in a public place).

Early on I realized that the exercise felt marvelously Tai Chi'ish. In Tai Chi force isn't met with resistance. Rather, it's redirected.

This was the only way I could manage Naughty Toddler Tango: relent to whatever Laurel wanted to do, then change the energy of that doing so she was headed in my intended direction.

Which didn't last long, because once I'd gotten her briefly on course she'd start resisting again and the naughty toddler game would start over. I found the exercise fascinating.

Not to mention energizing.

Elizabeth had told us that Tango, like life, is founded on energy. Without sparks flying between the leader and follower, usually a man and woman, Tango dance steps produce a largely mechanical façade of the real deal.

After the Naughty Toddler Tango song had ended, Elizabeth asked the class what we thought. I blurted out, "This anti-Tango exercise felt more Tango'ish than what we'd been doing before."

Laurel's resistance, her No!, brought out my Yes, you are!

The interplay between the two resulted in a lot more energy being exchanged between us. I could use the force of her naughtiness to guide her back on my desired track, almost always in a circular fashion.

If I wanted to step forward, and Laurel pushed back, I'd let her have her way. But with a turn thrown in, so we'd end up having spun completely around with a forward impetus.

Just as I wanted – until the next fuss-up had to be dealt with.

Life lesson: almost always the best thing to do is roll with a problem initially. Don't fight back with ferocious resistance right off the bat.

Tell the clerk who won't give you a refund, "OK, so you're saying the store rules won't let me return this." Bend a bit. Embrace what you want to change.

Then alter the direction things are moving without undue force. "I'm just wondering, though, if there's a way to make an exception for a regular customer like me. I don't want to start shopping somewhere else."

And remember that life is a dance. Everybody is trying to lead or follow in their own fashion, hearing the beat of desire-music that may be very different from what you're attempting to move to.

That's fine. Entirely normal. I might see you as the naughty toddler, while you view me as the person who is out of step.

There's no ultimate right or wrong here. Just people doing their best to dance with life the best they can.

Tango loosens up Salem (and me)

There's a lot of reasons to like Argentine Tango. And dancing in general. Letting go, embracing your inner whatever, freely flowing – what's not to like?

Last night Laurel and I went to our first class being offered by the Argentine Tango Salem community. We took up Argentine Tango in 2006, but never felt comfortable dancing what we'd learned (a blog post sample of our initial Tango journey is here, here, and here).

So we're making a fresh start.

Laurel likes American Tango more than Argentine, a style we took up last year. But I'm intrigued by the unique spontaneity and intimacy of Argentine Tango, in part because it appeals to my Tai Chi soul.

Both arts are founded on what Tai Chi calls "listening skills."

You've got to shut off your mental chatter and get attuned to what's going on with people in the room. This centrally means your partner. Also, those close to you. Most importantly, yourself.

Elizabeth Wartluft is teaching the Tango class. One of the first things she did was ask us students, "What's the job of the leader?"

People threw out answers. "Lead!" "Not bump into other dancers." "Protect the follower." I didn't say anything. Then Elizabeth said, "What else?"

Instantly "Interpret the music" popped into my mind. I almost blurted the thought out. Then I wondered whether I should let someone else answer. Or whether this was the best answer. I hesitated.

In a few seconds Elizabeth answered her own question, when nobody else did, with "Interpret the music!" (or words to that effect) Right away I said to myself, "Geez, why didn't you follow your instinct and speak out?"

For me, that moment was the most instructive part of the class. I'd frozen myself with over-thinking.

That's a no-no for both leaders and followers. In dancing you've got to go with what you feel. A leader has to be decisive in his leading; a follower has to be confident in her following (usually men lead and women follow, but not always).

Most of the rest of the class was aimed at learning basic leading and following skills, including feeling comfortable maneuvering in a crowded room – since Argentine Tango often is danced in close quarters.

Elizabeth had us play some dancing games, one of which gave me an "uh-oh" worry at the beginning. We were supposed to walk around randomly on the dance floor by ourselves when she said "solo," then link up with someone next to us when she said "couple."

I knew that in Argentina, men often dance with each other. But this isn't on my list of favorite things to do. To me, two women dancing together looks perfectly natural (and often hot!). Two men, though … not the same.

So I'd spend my solo time hoping that when the "couple" signal came, I'd be standing next to a female. At first that happened, in part because I was angling to make it so.

Then I started to relax into a whatever mode. A few times I grabbed a guy and led him around. At least once another guy looked at me and I said "go ahead and lead." He did. I felt fine with it.

Salem is sort of an uptight town, compared to Portland and Eugene – which have thriving Tango communities. I'm expecting that as Tango takes off here, this will help produce a looser vibe.

It did for me last night. I'm looking forward to more.

Dancing through life the Argentine Tango way

Is life a dance? Is dancing life? Sure.

We find a partner. We lose a partner. We stumble. We move smoothly. We forget where we're supposed to go. We get on track again.

Life is reflected in every style of dance. But many see Argentine Tango as the best representation of life. A few years ago I blogged about how "I'm learning to Tango with life."

Still am. Learning.

Last Saturday, another lesson. Lora, our RJ Dance Studio instructor, arranged for Rachel Lidskog to come down from Portland and teach two Argentine Tango workshops.

What a delight. Especially when Rachel partnered up with Lora and demonstrated how to move. These ladies can. Move. (Here's a YouTube video of Rachel waltzing in a competition.)

An accomplished dancer looks danceish even when he or she is just standing in one spot, talking. Or moving from place to place, walking. It isn't anything magical, really, though years of training are reflected in every stance and move.

It's basically presence. Being aware. Conscious of yourself, the rhythm you're hearing, the person you're connected with, others in the room.

Rachel is a marvelously positive woman. I'm sure she has her down days, but you'd never know it from her unfailing infectious smile, encouraging words, and warm energy. She spoke of chi, something I hear a lot about in my Tai Chi classes.

There's no way to tie chi down in words, but one way it manifests is as intention – a passion that another Tango instructor, Matt, spoke about. Without it, this energy of life, we're living at half-throttle, idling through our years.

Last weekend's Argentine Tango workshops helped bring Laurel and me up to a higher dancing speed, though we're still cruising along at low RPM's compared to experienced dancers.

Yet in three hours Rachel revved up us quite a bit, along with a pleasingly large number of other classmates (showing that sleepy Salem is ready to Tango, more than vicariously).

Here's some of her general Argentine Tango tips that are more obviously applicable to life. I'll share some Tango specifics in a continuation to this post.

--Connection between the leader and follower is all important, whether you're in close embrace or farther apart. Feel the intention of the leader and the response of the follower.

--A leader has to be decisive. Don't hesitate. A wishy-washy lead is more likely to result in stepped on feet or a stumble, not less likely. Move confidently into the follower's space; she (usually the follower is a woman) will get out of the way.

--Argentine Tango is fully led and followed, unlike patterned dances. There is no set pattern to Argentine Tango. It's spontaneous, moving to the rhythmic intention of the moment.

--Thus the follower shouldn't anticipate. Even though almost always this move follows that move, "almost" allows for the leader to go in another direction. Feel what is really happening, not what you expect to happen.

--Argentine Tango is the only dance style that can be danced to any sort of music: waltz, foxtrot, rhumba, salsa, nightclub, and so on. It's flexibility flows from its spontaneity and lack of a regular rhythm of its own.

--The essence of Tango is simply walking. As Carlos, another instructor, told us: "Guys, Tango is simple. It's just walking with the woman in a way that will make her fall in love with you." (For the duration of the dance, at least.)

Read on for some Argentine Tango specifics.

Salem Tangos, vicariously

Wow! Last night sleepy Salem became, briefly, a Tango town. Unfortunately, it was only within the walls of the Elsinore Theatre, where a touring troupe, "Forever Tango," performed.

Laurel and I took quite a few Argentine Tango lessons in 2006. We've forgotten much of what we learned. And watching the amazing dancers from our mezzanine seats made us realize that whatever we know about Tango is a tiny spark compared to the sensual firestorm they threw out.

A review said:

If you feel that tango is just another dance, then this show may not be for you. But if it stirs your heart and makes the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up, then I think you'll find the performance a treat that passes in the blink of an eye or in the brush of a hand against your hair.

I found both the music and the dancing incredibly moving. Argentine Tango is like no other dance. Other styles strike me as part of life. Tango, performed as I saw it, is life.

Meaning, it's sad. And happy. It's dying. And living. It's raw sex. And refined romance. It's macho. And feminist. It's complex. And simple. It's frantic motion. And stark stillness.

My sister and brother-in-law recently got back from a trip to South America. In Argentina they saw a lot of Tango, not surprisingly.

Here's a photo of some young dancers in a mall.

And another photo of some older dancers. It's all Tango, no matter how you look on the outside. Like life itself, it's the feeling on the inside that counts the most.

Before the show I talked with a couple sitting behind us. They've got fifteen years of Tango experience and dance in Portland frequently. The man asked me where we dance in Salem.

"Nowhere," I told him. "Salem has a virtually nonexistent Tango scene."

But that could change. I've tried, in some small ways, to up-Tango Salem (see "Salem Tango stimulated by a San Diegan").

And back in January I wrote about plans by Lora of the RJ Dance Studio, where we take lessons, to host an Argentine Tango workshop. Those plans are coming to fruition, probably in late May.

If you're a Salem-area resident interested in being introduced to Argentine Tango, let Lora know: [email protected] She can tell you more about the workshop.

Here's a striking You Tube video of some Forever Tango dancers. Pretty amazing. And hot. (Keep in mind: this is show Tango, not "real" Argentine Tango.)

The video below is considerably more realistic, yet almost equally sensuous.

I’m dance-blogging in Russia!

Here's a great example why blogging is so satisfying. I can go to my Outlook inbox and find an email from a guy who runs a Russian dance blog.

Dear Brian! My name is Ivan Makarov. I am from Russia. I am webmaster of the http://ballroom.org.ru So I am writing to let you know that I like your dance related posts. Thank you for your writing. I've found your site via google and decided to translate some of your posts to Russian, for posting on my own site.

What a kick. Ivan chose to share my "Tango, where men lead and women follow." Naturally I had to see how my words looked in Cyrillic.

Pretty cool.

Перед тем как мы начали заниматься танго, мы с Лорел брали уроки по Свингу западного побережья (West Coast Swing). Практически постоянно женщина-инструктор начинала урок словами: «Мужчина, это ваш шанс! В танце вы должны вести женщину. Пользуйтесь моментом! Всё остальное время на неделе она будет вести а вы следовать».

To connect in such a hands across the sea fashion – this is a big reason why I keep on blogging. Some people say that spending hours in front of a computer isolates you. Actually, I find that it's just the opposite.

I expand my horizons through my laptop and DSL connection. In this case, all the way to Russia.

Laurel and I love to watch America's Ballroom Challenge on PBS. Many of the top professionals who take part in the challenge have Russian names. In fact, two Russians won this year: Andrei Gavriline and Elena Kryuchkova.

"Russia" and "dancing" are words that go hand in hand. As a dancing semi-beginner, I'm honored to have a dance-related blog post translated into Russian.

Cпасибо, Ivan. (if I just said something weird, rather than "thanks," it's this site's fault)

Caution: dancing can lead to divorce

During our Foxtrot class, Lora, the instructor, talked about how dancing usually is looked upon as a way for couples to come closer together. But it doesn't always work out that way, she said.

If a man and a woman are having problems before they begin learning ballroom dancing, whatever strains exist in their relationship are going to brought to the fore on the dance floor.

Laurel and I have been taking dance classes for just two years. But already we've seen a bunch of different approaches couples use when the moves aren't flowing like they should.

Laughter. The preferred response to a stumble, trip, collision, or any other of the myriad mis-steps that are endemic to dancing, no matter how good you are. If a couple can't laugh at themselves, dancing is going to be more frustrating than fun.

Discussion. After the laughing dies down, you've still got to figure out the reason for what's going awry. Talking it over sometimes is necessary if one person or the other doesn't blurt out an immediate "Sorry, I messed up!"

Blame. If self-criticism is lacking, some dance students aren't shy about placing the blame where it belongs: on their partner. This can be done in either a light-hearted or heavy-handed manner. A "What was that all about?" is fine (I hear it all the time). Demeaning your partner isn't.

Argument. The dark side of discussion. Lora said she's seen couples go at it during a class, bringing to the dance floor the same relationship crap that happens at home.

Once, she said, a man stormed out the door in the middle of a session. The couple never came back. Later she learned that they'd gotten a divorce.

Their marriage counselor had suggested they take dance lessons. Not a good idea. Partner dancing is just going to bring out communication problems in a new setting. It won't do much, if anything, to help a couple deal with the problems.

However, if a man and woman are just normally dysfunctional –like we all are at times – ballroom dancing is going to bring them closer together. That's been my experience, at least.

I always feel better after a dance class or practice session. And not just in the way I feel good after other sorts of exercise. There's another dimension to dancing: your partner.

And the music, of course. So you've got to adjust yourself to two other entities that aren't you – the melodies entering your ears and the person in your arms.

Control issues soon surface under these circumstances. In ballroom dancing the man leads and the woman follows. Lora, our instructor, likes to say to the men:

Guys, when you step on the hard wood, you're in charge. You're holding the remote control. You're driving the car. When you leave class and step back on the carpet, everything goes back to normal.

I've blogged about why men lead and women follow. Pretty simple, really. Men prefer it. Women prefer it.

Normally. But if a couple is butting horns with each other, it's going to be really tough for the man to take charge and lead, and for the woman to let go and follow. Dissention, and maybe even divorce, can follow.

Rainy Oregon tango dog walk video

It all came together today.

My Flip Video.
Rain.
Dog walk.
Tango music.

Thank you, Gotan Project, for "Paris, Texas."

I needed a fairly lengthy Tango track to suit the misty gray mood of a seriously damp Oregon Saturday. "Paris, Texas" fit the bill.

Tango, because one of my dance instructors told me that with waltz, smiling is expected. With Tango, how you feel is how you look. No "should's."

Rain starts to get irritating this time of year. I'm tired of forty degrees and wet. Followed by colder and wetter.

But today my goal was to look at my usual dog walk with a different Flip Video-inspired eye.

Water is almost everywhere on our one mile journey out the front door, across the yard, down the path, to the creek, around the lake, and home again.

No rain, no water. No water, no life.

In "The Tango Lesson" (a great movie) some Tango aficionados in Buenos Aires are asked to describe the dance. A woman says, "It's about life." Her husband adds, "And death."

Yin and yang. Darkness and light. Rain and clear skies. Can't have one without the other.

Here's my first You Tubed movie mix. It wasn't too tough to make – the Flip Video software knit together a dozen or so clips, added in my music selection, and uploaded the 6:31 video to You Tube.

Coming in six months…a sunnier side of Oregon.

The one place where men always lead

From my male perspective, it's nice that there's still one place in this modern, egalitarian world where men always lead and women always follow.

The ballroom dance floor. At least, that's the way it's supposed to work, as Lora (our RJ Dance Studio instructor) explained to us a few days ago.

We're taking a beginning Foxtrot class. Laurel and I have taken quite a few classes from Lora, but most of the other Foxtrotters were new to dancing, so she went over the basics.

Including this weird and wacky notion: the woman should do whatever the man wants – unless you're about to crash into someone or something , then she can bail. Otherwise, Lora said, relax and go along for the ride (unless he's acting like a jerk).

Even if your man is going in the wrong direction. Which happens all the time with me and Laurel. And just about everybody who ventures out onto the hard wood.

Lora drew a distinction between the carpet in her entry way and the ballroom floor. "Once you step back onto the rug, ladies, everything is back to normal." Meaning, your guy is back under your control.

I find this whole leading – following thing the most fascinating aspect of dancing. In another post I tried to answer why men lead and women follow. Don't know if I succeeded, but I had fun trying.

And that's the purpose of dancing: fun. Laurel and I haven't been practicing much, but we went to the weekly open dance at the studio last night and enjoyed ourselves.

When RJ, the DJ, called out a dance we didn't know, like rumba!, at first we shrugged our shoulders and remained in our chairs.

But RJ came around and offered to show us and another clueless couple the basic rhythm and steps. So what the heck – we got out on the floor and did something that maybe once in a while looked something like rumba, if you squinted your eyes and didn't stare at us too long.

Yet throughout, even when I knew next to nothing about what I was doing, I was still expected to lead.

Though in practice, as this informative Wikipedia article on leading and following says, a woman can hijack the lead, or backlead. There are more acceptable and less acceptable ways of doing this. It's generally undesirable, though, especially if the hijacking or backleading is obvious.

Lora spoke to the women in the class ("girls," as dance instructors like to say) about the joy of being a follower. She said that this was an opportunity to relax, to relinquish control, to feel your partner's movements and intentions without thinking.

As I talked about in my "Tango, where men lead and women follow," there's a simple Me Tarzan, You Jane attitude in partner dancing that's an appealing counterpoint to the complexity of modern male-female relationships.

Yet there's a tender aspect to leading and following also. It's all about communication, the main point in this overview of the subject offered by BallroomDancers.com.

I liked the description of the connection between partners:

According to this definition, a connection can be any point where you actually touch your partner. While this is technically correct, it's not entirely accurate. Normally, when we think of a connection, we think of a point through which you lead or follow your partner. So it's not enough to simply touch your partner or hold their hand. In order to lead or follow, your connections must do more. For example:

A connection must have TONE.
In order to function properly as a transmitter of signals, the connected body parts should maintain a certain degree of muscle tone. If the connection is limp or weak, the lead-and-follow signals will not run through it.

A connection must be ACTIVE.
A working connection is a living, breathing thing. It must be alive, responsive to the situation, and ready to transmit and receive signals. In addition to being toned, it must also be flexible, and ready to change to accommodate any situation.

A connection must be MUTUAL.
It takes two to have a conversation. Both parties must do their part to maintain the connection. When one person falls short, the conversation dies, no matter how much the other may try to compensate.

As in dance, so in life.

Argentine Tango could spice up Salem

[Update: Since I wrote this, Frank and Karen Davis have begun to organize an Argentine Tango community here in Salem. Check out their website for info about the Tango classes being taught by Elizabeth Wartluft of Portland. On September 3 the Salem paper had an interesting story about the classes.]

Fellow Salemites, even though we live in Oregon's boring capital city, there's untapped passion in our rain-drenched souls.

That's why we need to bring Argentine Tango classes back to town. Thanks to Peter Gysegem, of Corvallis, weekly classes were offered during 2006 – which Laurel and I started taking in February with initially tangled results.

The past year was a hiatus, as Peter's classes had stopped, but now Lora of RJ Dance Studio is hoping to schedule some Argentine Tango workshops. And maybe regular classes.

Here's what Lora said in a recent email newsletter:

A good friend and teacher from Portland has offered to bring her partner and come to Salem to do a group of one-day workshops in Argentine Tango. She has been teaching Argentine Tango for 10 years, and is very good at it.

There have been several inquiries regarding Argentine Tango classes and dances here in Salem. These workshops would be a testing opportunity to actually see who really wants this. If there is enough interest, a set of regular classes could be formed along with a monthly Tango Only dance. We'd need at least 10 couples to make this fly. 20 couples would be better.

Argentine Tango has a different posture, dance hold and characteristic than American Ballroom Tango. Because of its extremely close hold, I suggest you come with your own partner, or with someone who you don't mind being VERY close to. But please remember, this is still just a DANCE!

The date and times are to be determined by the availability of the teacher. You, meanwhile can let me know what day (or evening) of the week would work best for you and we will try to coordinate as best we can.

If you live in the Salem area and are interested in learning Argentine Tango, contact Lora directly.

Wikipedia has a good description of this dance. It can be addictive. Argentine Tango is quite a bit more spontaneous and unpatterned than other couple dances.

As the Wikipedia article says, in most other styles the follower has a good idea of what move is coming next from the leader. With Argentine Tango, though:

The ballast of previous perceptions about strict rules has to be thrown overboard and replaced by a real communication contact, creating a direct non-verbal dialogue. A tango is a living act in the moment as it happens.

This is why it makes sense to speak of Tango Zen and the Tao of Tango. We're talking about more than dance here, if you want to get all philosophical about the dance (which, let me assure you, you don't need to).

For a hot example of professional Argentine Tango, check out the video at the end of this post.

Salem Tango stimulated by a San Diegan

Amazing! Last night Salem actually seemed interesting for a couple of hours.

We pushed aside the tables in the downtown Beanery coffee house and danced away on a nice wood floor while Tango music played over the sound system.

It took a San Diegan, though, to wake up sleepy Salem.

That would be Matt, the guy in the middle of the photo who distinguished himself by (1) being by far the youngest amongst us, and (2) actually knowing how to dance Argentine Tango.

The rest of us ranged from rusty beginner/intermediates (Karen, in middle, plus Laurel and me, on the right), to Tim and Jan on the left – neighbors of ours who claimed they'd never danced at all before, but looked pretty darn good after just a few minutes of Matt's high quality instruction.

Matt is visiting relatives here and emailed me after coming across my blog posts about Argentine Tango in Salem.

Which, after organized classes ended in 2006, is as hidden as many other exotic pursuits are in this town, whose main claim to fame is that it lies between Portland and Eugene.

So I told Matt that there wasn't any place to dance Tango. He responded that this was fine; he'd be happy to just get together for a Salem – San Diego Argentine Tango exchange.

Since this would be pretty much a one-way street, given his much greater knowledge of this challenging dance, I morphed his offer into an introduction to Tango.

I learned a lot in the three hours we spent together. Matt has a nice dance philosophy. A focus on simple basics rather than complex patterns. That's the authentic Argentine Tango way, but it's easy to get side-tracked.

You can look pretty darn good dancing Tango by just walking. In fact, "just walking" is the essence of Tango.

One of our instructors, Carlos, liked to say that it's all about a man walking with a woman so she will fall in love with him (for the duration of the dance, at least). He can't be too forceful, and he can't be too diffident.

That's the challenge of leading. Which is matched by the challenge of following.

Since Argentine Tango is highly spontaneous and improvisational, there are few patterned moves where the leader and follower can go on autopilot.

You've got to be focused in the moment, and the music, to make the dance work – staying connected with your partner, as well as your own center.

I enjoyed Matt's story about how he dances with a woman regularly in San Diego who started Tango classes about the same time he did. They know each other well, but there's always something new to experience with Tango (as with life).

Matt said that she usually dances in close embrace, with her eyes closed, as women often do in Argentine Tango. He can feel her heart beating, her breath, how the muscles in her face change when she smiles or briefly opens her eyes.

During one song he felt a "fire" in his chest. An energy. Outwardly he was dancing as he always did; inwardly he was leading with more Tango passion.

When they stopped, she said "there was something different about you." She could feel it, just as he could feel what she was experiencing.

Moments like those are the magic of Tango. I've felt them only a few times. But once felt, they keep you coming back for more.

Matt was asked if Tango dancers typically dance other styles, or if they concentrate on Tango. He said that usually Tango is it. The attraction to this dance is so strong, there's little or no desire to waltz, or swing, or fox trot, or whatever.

Understandable. Very much so. As you can see for yourself…

Why men lead and women follow

That's a provocative title for a blog post, one that contains an implicit addition: when dancing. Any man realizes that the dance floor is just about the only place he's going to be able to lead a woman with impunity.

Especially if he's married, as I know from thirty-five years of yes, dear experience.

So why is it that in partner dancing it's so acceptable for the man to call the shots? Well, not only acceptable – demanded, as we keep being told in our Night Club Two Step lessons.

We've gotten halfway proficient at American Tango, thanks to Lora, our RJ Dance Studio instructor. We decided to branch out to a style that seemingly would be easier than Tango. Two steps sounded great compared to the intricacies of many Tango moves.

The reality, however, is that Night Club Two Step is turning out to be just about as challenging for us. I've still got to lead and Laurel still has to follow. No matter what the style, this is the basic hurdle that a man and woman need to overcome to have a good time together.

Or at least, be able to leave the dance floor without wanting to choke each other.

When we're practicing Laurel frequently tells me, "You're not doing what you should." My yang to her yin is, "You're not following like you should."

But what we don't argue about is who's doing the leading and following. Whether the dance is Tango, Nightclub Two Step, or something else, I'm going to be the leader and Laurel the follower.

Which feels right. That's the simple answer to why men lead and women follow. The sexes are inherently different, as Johanna Siegmann wrote in The Tao of Tango (and I echoed in "Tango, where men lead and women follow."

I get frustrated when I'm not able to lead correctly. However, it'd be immensely more difficult for me to accept being the follower. It bothers me enough when I feel Laurel getting ahead of me in a sequence of moves that I've been trying to lead.

At that point she becomes the de facto leader, a no-no. Last Tuesday our instructor took the man's role while demonstrating a Night Club Two Step routine with Laurel. Lora got a few steps into it, then stopped short.

"What are you doing?" Lora said to Laurel. "I didn't lead that move. You did it on your own."

I clapped my hands and exclaimed "Yes! Tell it like it is!" Because that's just what I'd been telling my wife. But naturally she didn't believe me.

During the same group lesson Lora went over to the sound system and picked up a remote control. "See this, guys?" she said. "This is yours in dance. You get to decide the moves. Use it!"

Just like at home. I hold the remote 99.9% of the time. When Laurel touches it I start to feel queasy. A basic law of the cosmos is being violated. The man should change the channel, just as he should change the dance move.

Nikolas Lloyd, a quirky Englishman (aren't they all?) and swing dance aficionado, has put together a spot-on "Ten Reasons Why Men Lead and Women Follow." Here's two key reasons that I especially agree with

7. Men prefer it
Men are show-offs. Men get pleasure from dancing well, not simply from dancing. A partner dance is an opportunity for a man to be masculine, and give a woman a good time. This is surely a good thing for both men and women. If a man is stupid, he might try to show the women how strong he is by shoving her around brutally. She won't like this and will never dance with him again. If he is considerate and sensible, he will look after his partner and she will enjoy dancing with him. If she looks happy at the end of the dance, that is his reward. Men get a big kick out of that sort of thing, and we are, after all, doing this for kicks.

8. Women prefer it
Despite what the politically correct may try to get us to believe, women don't actually find men who are followers in life as attractive as leaders. Weak yes-men do not win the hearts of women, while strong and decisive men generally do. Dancing with a man is an opportunity for a woman to assess him. If she is leading, she will learn less about him, and the sensation of having a man follow her is not as pleasurable as the sensation of being well led by a man who is a decisive and skilled dancer. Deny the biology of the situation if you like, but you won't refute it. It remains true that men and women both enjoy partner dancing most when he leads and she follows (for much more on this sort of thing, see my essay in the evolution section on why men won't dance ).

For a religious perspective on leading and following in dance – can you guess who the real Leader is? – check out "In Step With God."

Surprisingly, for a churchless sort like me, I found some connections between this guy's take on letting go in dancing and my own "Balanced between faith and doubt."

We agree on one thing: a man may be the leader on the dance floor, but the universe (which includes wives and girlfriends) has a humbler role in store for him once he leaves it.

Our tango evolution: Argentine to American

Well, true Tango aficionados probably would consider our current dance class a devolution from the Argentine style. And I have to admit that American Tango (at our level) doesn't have the same spontaneous flowing flair as the Argentine version.

But it's easier to learn. Therein lies much of our satisfaction with the ten classes we've had so far from Lora at Salem's RJ Dance Studio.

When we took Argentine Tango classes last year, we were taught an eight-count Argentine Tango basic movement. I've heard that some Tango instructors eschew this movement , wanting the dance to be entirely spontaneously led and followed.

That's pretty intimidating when you don't have much dance experience (maybe also if you do; we kept being told that "Tango is the Ph.D. of social dances"). Speaking as a beginning leader, it's nice to be able to lean on a pattern when your male brain hits a blank what-to-do-next spot.

American Tango also has a basic pattern with eight counts. You can see it, along with some other basic moves, most of which we can do, here (someday I'll get brave and put up a YouTube video of us Tango'ing, but that day hasn't come yet).

I'm no ballroom dance expert, that's for sure. However, I can say from personal experience that if you've tried Argentine Tango and found it too difficult, given American Tango a try. There's more structure, as most patterns we've been taught hold to the eight counts in the basic movement.

Quick (Q) is one count. Slow (S) is two counts. The basic pattern is S, S, Q, Q, S (eight counts). A rock step also is S, S, Q, Q, S. But a box turn is Q, Q, S, Q, Q, S. Also eight counts, with a different beat.

I'm not at all musical; I'm a bit more mathematical. So my male brain resonates with the eight count patterns in beginning/intermediate American Tango. I can dance along softly muttering to myself, "quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow."

With Argentine Tango, I often was muttering also. However, it was more like "what the heck…now what?...oops, that didn't work…" Lora tells us that we'll eventually be able to throw Argentine moves into our American Tango. So all that earlier muttering won't be wasted.

I don't want to over-emphasize the differences between the two Tango styles, though. Both feel wonderfully Tangoish when you dance them well. Which, now and then, we're managing to do.

Last Saturday Lora glanced at me while we were practicing a pattern and exclaimed, "Brian! I didn't see how the first part of that move looked, but the last part looked great." That made my dance class day.

Having been a dance geek back in high school (plus college, and graduate school, as well as most of the subsequent years), I'm surprising myself now. I'm really into this whole Tango thing. We'll probably try to learn some other ballroom dances eventually.

So, guys (and gals), if I can enjoy dance classes, anyone can. Try it. You'll probably like it. There's something elemental about moving around a room to music with someone in your arms.

Like I said in my "Tango, where men lead and women follow" post:

Tango is the most challenging form of physicality I've ever attempted.

It stretches you where it hurts: in your most basic sense of who you are as a man or woman. Learning Tango is much tougher for a man. He does the leading, even when he barely knows any moves to lead. He has to be decisive yet not domineering, a difficult balance to strike.

The woman has her own challenges. While on the dance floor she has to dampen her desire to lead, even if she is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. She has to respond to the man, becoming an extension of his intention insofar as possible.

Yet, and this is the most interesting aspect of Tango, the man follows almost as much as he leads. And the woman leads almost as much as she follows. Here is where Me Tarzan, You Jane morphs into Tango Zen or Tango Taoism.

A leader becomes a follower becomes a leader becomes a follower…until the music ends. After I lead a move the woman takes over. I'm following her movement now, until it's time to reclaim my role as leader.

Tango. Life. Love. Marriage. Relationship.

It's all the same. It's all about balance. It's all about Tarzan and Jane. And Jane and Tarzan.

(For a glimpse of what we sure don't look like, the Show Tango on the 2007 American Ballroom Challenge is worth a view.)

“Take the Lead” and Tango Zen

If I’m going to be reincarnated, coming back as Antonio Banderas would be entirely acceptable. As Roger Ebert says at the end of his “Take the Lead” review, Banderas oozes cool and charisma, just like he does in all of his movies that I’ve seen.

“Desperado” remains one of my peak cinematic experiences, notwithstanding Ebert’s tepid review. However, I have to admit that my memories are as much of Salma Hayek as of my man Antonio.

Last night Laurel and I finished watching “Take the Lead,” a predictable yet inspiring story of how ballroom dance changes the lives of inner city kids. Banderas is a dance instructor who brings the tango, waltz, and fox trot into a basement high school detention hall.

By the time he’s done (gosh, what a surprise!), the once-resistant students have become ardent dance aficionados, able to go head to head with snooty white kids at a fancy competition. They meld their street hip hop moves with traditional styles, loosening up even the staid judges.

Banderas is as much an etiquette teacher as a dance instructor. Waiting in the high school office to talk to the principal, he stands up whenever a woman walks by and opens the door for her, thereby melting the hearts of female office staff.

This reminded me of the time I was in the Portland condo of a sixty-ish couple who I had worked with before but didn’t know very well socially. I was sitting in the living room with the husband, waiting for his wife to get dressed. We were chatting away, then he suddenly stopped talking and leaped to his feet.

At first I had no idea what was going on. Then, I did. Good god, I realized, he actually rises whenever his wife walks into the room. At least when company is around. I felt like an etiquette clod. For a while after that I made a point of opening car doors and such for Laurel. But I blow hot and cold when it comes to traditional courtesies.

Maybe “Take the Lead” will re-inspire me. I liked how Banderas explained why men have to learn how to take the lead in dance, and why women have to learn how to trust them. As in dance, so in life. Respect between the sexes on the hardwood floor transfers over into respect on the street. And the living room.

Yesterday I got an email message from Chan Park, the author of “Tango Zen” (who presents a koan on his web site, how can you dance tango without legs?). I ordered the book directly from Chan a while back, and he’d asked how I liked it.

I told him about my glimpse of Tango Zen. I’d welcome a more expansive view. Hopefully I’ll be able to attend one of Chan’s workshops someday. In one of his emails, Chan shared his philosophy.

TangoZen is about learning to appreciate traditional tango through disciplines of Zen, which is synonymous to simplicity and clarity of body and mind. For decades dancers have discovered that learning to enjoy dancing requires not only physical but also mental disciplines.

TangoZen is to advocate and promote the traditional tango with aid of the Zen, which teaches us to devote 100% of our physical and mental attention to what we are doing Here Now.

…Goal of the TangoZen courses is to help the students appreciate the tradition tango by experiencing total concentration on dancing while dancing Tango. To accomplish the goal, the students in the TangoZen courses are guided to practice a number of exercises, which are fundamental and closely linked to tango dance movements.

The exercises are adopted from martial arts such as Tai Chi and Chi Kung, and meditation techniques such as yoga.

Sounds good. Right up my alley.

Laurel and I hope to continue learning Tango through a five-week class being offered by the RJ Dance Studio in Salem next month. Only a few couples have signed up so far, so I want to plug the class in the hopes that some other locals will get the Tango bug.

Watch “Take the Lead” and you’ll see some hot Tango that might infect you. When I phoned the RJ Dance Studio today to put our names down I mentioned the movie. “That’s basically American Tango,” I was told, “not Argentine Tango. We teach American in our class.”

Cool. We’ve been learning Argentine, but I’m way open to looking more like Antonio Banderas. And I already have a blonde partner. Throw in some Zen, and I’ll be ready to hit the dance floor.

Legless, of course.

Dancing Tango with myself

Our last Salem Tango class was last night. We didn’t go to it but were there in spirit.

It isn’t possible for Peter, the instructor, to drive up from Corvallis each week anymore. Laurel and I are deeply appreciative of all the time and energy he and Joy, the organizer of the classes, put into bringing Tango to Salem for most of 2006.

In the “Tango” category of this blog you can learn what Tango has come to mean to me (scroll down past this post, which is at the top of the category postings).

I’m still a rank beginner at this challenging dance. But I’ve managed to absorb a smidgen of what’s been conveyed in the lessons we’ve taken from Peter, Carlos, and their assistants (Roy and Jodi).

Outwardly, this has been moves. Steps. Rhythm. Balance. Centering. Inwardly, this has been attitude. Leading. Following. Confidence. Connection. It’s the inward side of Tango that will mainly remain with me.

For unless you’re into dancing along the sidewalk whenever the mood strikes you, as in “The Tango Lesson,” Tango isn’t going to be in the forefront of every day. But there are universal lessons to be learned from the dance (see “I’m learning to Tango with life”).

One of the central themes of The Tango Lesson, a great movie, is the tension between leading and following. In a climactic scene Pablo Veron tells Sally Potter, his partner: “You should do nothing. When you dance—just follow! Otherwise you destroy my freedom to move.”

Is Pablo right? Wrong? Both right and wrong? Neither? Only Tango knows. And Tango isn’t telling.

All I know is that based on my dancing with myself throughout my waking hours, I sympathize with Pablo. Sometimes I’m a terrible follower. I lead myself in a certain direction, then feel resistance. From me.

“Is this the correct thing to do?” “Maybe there’s a better way.” “Are you sure?” “Shouldn’t you think some more before jumping into this?” “How will it look if you make a wrong step?”

Just follow, Brian! Be an empty vessel. Fill yourself with your self.

Sometimes I get thirsty during my Tai Chi classes. There’s a water dispenser and small paper cups in a corner. I pour myself a cup, have a drink, and then set the empty container on a shelf in the back of the room.

After class is over I engage in an oft-repeated ritual: I crumple up the cup, walk a few steps to line myself up with a waste basket on the other side of the room, and attempt a toss.

I always miss. The basket is small. The crumpled cup isn’t aerodynamic. The distance is considerable.

Last night Warren, my Tai Chi instructor, picked up the wad of paper, threw it back to me, and said, “Brian, you always miss.” “I know,” I told him.

“Try something different,” Warren said. “Look at the basket. Then shut your eyes. Just do it. Don’t think about it.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” I replied. Other students were staring at me. I felt like the guy at the free throw line when his team is one point down and there’s a second left on the clock.

“But I’ll give it a try.” Look. Close eyes. Toss. Miss. Retry. Same result. But worse.

“You’re trying too hard,” Warren said. “Relax. Just do it. Breathe.”

One more try. This time, though, it didn’t feel like a try. There wasn’t one side of me trying, and another side of me thinking “It probably won’t go in.” I didn’t really care if it did or not. I wasn’t aware of the other people in the room.

I just looked at the basket, shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and tossed the paper cup.

Right into the basket. Swish. No net (or the wastebasket equivalent).

One crumpled cup toss, one step toward learning how to Tango with life.

Tango, where men lead and women follow

Before our Tango era, Laurel and I briefly took some West Coast Swing classes. Almost invariably, the female instructor would start off by saying, “Men, this is your chance. In dance you get to lead the woman. Make the most of it. The rest of the week you’ll be back to following her.”

How true. Especially if you’re married. I speak from thirty-four years of experience.

In our egalitarian American culture, where overt sexism is becoming as déclassé as overt racism, sex roles are becoming increasingly blurred. This is mostly for the good.

But the current dance craze—witness the popularity of TV’s “Dancing With the Stars” and “So You Think You Can Dance,” plus a plethora of dance movies—points toward a desire for some old-fashioned Me Tarzan, You Jane relating between men and women.

In Tango, it’s Tarzan Lead, Jane Follow.

I readily admit that I’m a dance neophyte. Yet I’ve heard from credible sources that Tango is unique among the social dances for its high degree of spontaneity. Yes, there are basic moves, as in all dance forms.

In Tango, though, the man (ideally) interprets the music and leads his partner through a largely spontaneous flowing succession of movement combinations. Carlos, one of our instructors, has a mathematical bent. I forget his exact words, but they’re something like “There are more possible moves in Tango than atomic particles in the entire universe.”

And each has to be led. The woman basically is an empty receptive vessel. Jodi, Carlos’ partner and fellow instructor, once told me that when she was just beginning to learn Tango she danced with an accomplished man.

“I knew nothing,” she said. “Yet I could dance Tango because I didn’t have to do anything but relax and follow his lead. It was beautiful. I still remember how good that felt.”

What’s especially tantalizing to me about Tango, given its archetypal nature when it comes to sex roles, is how much it reveals about my personal male attitude toward leading. One evening Carlos and Jodi gave me some yin and yang instructional advice.

Carlos had been watching me dance with Laurel. He clearly didn’t like what he was seeing. Carlos interrupted us and grabbed me by the shoulders. “I’m going to lead you,” he said. “I want you to feel what it is like to be the woman.”

To my credit I didn’t shy away from those words, which, on one level, resembled my worst incarceration nightmare: “This is Bubba. He’s going to be your cell mate.”

I told Carlos, “Sure. Let’s give it a try.” It was difficult at first. Carlos kept stopping and telling me, “That’s not what I led. You’re not following correctly.” My basic problem was trying to anticipate where Carlos was heading next. That is, I was still trying to lead, even though I was the follower now.

After quite a few stops and starts my frustration led to a breakthrough of sorts. I relaxed into an empty Whatever, Carlos attitude. I became a dry leaf blowing wherever the wind took me. I stopped thinking and simply went wherever I was led.

Following lesson completed, Jodi then took me in hand—compared to Carlos, a decidedly more pleasant experience. She said, “Show me how you lead.” Then she closed her eyes, as experienced women Tango dancers often do, and let me do my thing.

“Your lead is soft,” was her feedback. “I have trouble telling what your intention is. Tango is a macho dance. Be more confident. Throw your shoulders back. Push your chest out. Make me move where you want me to go.”

It was the instructional yang of Carlos’ yin. Again, I felt frustrated. But this time I could express myself with energy rather than emptiness. I took charge of Jodi. I didn’t hesitate. I ran through my limited supply of Tango moves without looking back or forward. What felt right at the moment was what I did.

After a few minutes the music stopped. Jodi smiled and clapped her hands. “Yes! That was it!” I felt like the king of the world. Or at least, the king of the Judson Middle School gymnasium.

Such is the seductive appeal of Tango. For decades I played competitive tennis. For fifteen years I’ve seriously studied hard martial arts and softer Tai Chi. Yet Tango is the most challenging form of physicality I’ve ever attempted.

It stretches you where it hurts: in your most basic sense of who you are as a man or woman. Learning Tango is much tougher for a man. He does the leading, even when he barely knows any moves to lead. He has to be decisive yet not domineering, a difficult balance to strike.

The woman has her own challenges. While on the dance floor she has to dampen her desire to lead, even if she is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. She has to respond to the man, becoming an extension of his intention insofar as possible.

Yet, and this is the most interesting aspect of Tango, the man follows almost as much as he leads. And the woman leads almost as much as she follows. Here is where Me Tarzan, You Jane morphs into Tango Zen or Tango Taoism.

A leader becomes a follower becomes a leader becomes a follower…until the music ends. After I lead a move the woman takes over. I’m following her movement now, until it’s time to reclaim my role as leader.

As Johanna Siegmann writes in “The Tao of Tango":

Leading is male energy; so the male always begins because men have dominant male energy. Following is female energy, so women follow because they have dominant female energy.

Dominant does not mean total or entire. In the context of our natural balance of our energies, it means the major portion. In the context of Tango, it means that once the man leads and the woman follows, the woman must complete the step and the man must wait.

The energies are shifted. Doing the step: male energy. Waiting for the step to be complete: female energy. They shift back and forth…Tango helps us get balanced because it requires the highest level of communication without words. It also requires us to use both these energies, and so develops them.

Tango. Life. Love. Marriage. Relationship.

It’s all the same. It’s all about balance. It’s all about Tarzan and Jane. And Jane and Tarzan.

Tango, a three minute love affair

Carlos Rojas, one of our Tango instructors, says that Tango began in Buenos Aires as a human mating dance. Much as birds and other animals do, males had to compete for a limited supply of desirable females.

Dancing Tango demonstrated to a woman what kind of a mate a man would be. So Carlos likes to say that Tango is simple: “It’s just a gentleman walking with a lady so she will fall in love with him.”

Just as Carlos told us last night, Christine Denniston explains that in the late 1800s there was a massive influx of single male immigrants to Argentina. Women were scarce. The cliché is that Tango originated in the brothels of Buenos Aires, giving the men some entertainment while they waited for the services of a prostitute.

But Denniston points out that if all the prostitutes were occupied, leaving a bunch of men in the waiting room, then no woman was available to dance with the patrons. So it is unlikely that Tango was prostitute-inspired. However, it does appear that Tango was practiced in the brothel waiting rooms.

This is Denniston’s theory, which was echoed by Carlos in our Tango history lesson.

There were really only two practical ways for a man to get close to a woman under these circumstances [of lots of men and few women]. One was to visit a prostitute and the other was to dance.

With so much competition from other men on the dance floor, if a man wanted a woman to dance with him, it was necessary for him to be a good dancer, and being a good dancer only meant one thing. It didn't matter if he knew lots of fancy steps, or if the other men thought he was a good dancer. The only thing that mattered was that the woman in his arms had a good time when she danced with him - because with so many other men to choose from, if she didn't enjoy dancing with him she wouldn't do it again, and neither would her friends.

This meant that it was necessary for the men to practice together in order to be good enough to dance with the women. It is important to remember that this was a time before recorded music was available. The only kind of music was live music, and there would have been very little of it.

So if a group of men heard music playing they would jump at the chance to dance to it. In the brothels there would be live music and other men waiting. So it seems to me quite obvious that the clients of the brothels would have danced together while they waited, making the most of the opportunity to practice, not because they wanted to dance with a prostitute, but because they wanted to be able to dance well when they got the opportunity to dance with a woman who was not a prostitute.

It was the potential wives and sweethearts that lived in the tenement blocks - conventillos - that they were hoping for a chance to dance with. A prostitute took money from a man in return for her favours - a clear and simple transaction. To win a sweetheart in the real world took something more, and being a good dancer helped a lot.

Hence, Tango has come to be described as a “three minute love affair.” And a bit more crudely, as a “vertical expression of a horizontal desire.”

Well, so far for Laurel and me our two-hour classes aren’t so romantic. Tango is a difficult dance to learn. Often we’ve got frowns on our faces as we try to figure out why a move isn’t working for us.

Every move is led and followed in Tango. We’ve been taught the eight basic steps, and quite a few other moves, but no pattern is intended to be repeated mechanically. It’s a template for improvisation. Life isn’t predictable. Neither is Tango.

Leading and following is still a challenge for us. Often I’ll be leading away then realize that Laurel has taken over. She’s doing her own thing and I’m following. After sixteen years of marriage I’ve got a lot of practice in that.

It made me feel better to read about a beginning Tango couple with the same problem.

Memories aside, by the time our regular teachers, Esteban and Nadia, return, we realize that we have a problem. In tango, the man leads and decides all the moves, with his partner following and receiving signals for the eights, double eights, turns, and so on, all the so-called figuras that catch most people's attention when they watch tango. This is difficult for me, since, like many wives, I am used to being the one who feels she should make all the important decisions.

Well, for a couple of hours a week, I figure that a woman should be able to suck it up and be the follower for a change. So we Tango on. With me leading. Mostly.

In Tango, as in marriage, the man is always wrong

Last night our dance instructor reminded us of the Tango truth: “The man is always wrong.” A murmur of agreement was heard from the women. I could hear several men mutter, “Just like marriage.”

Carlos, a guest instructor a few months back, gave us the same message. Guess I’ll have to live with it. Not that I disagree with the adage, especially after repeatedly stepping on Laurel’s feet as we tried to learn some cross foot moves.

Tango, Carlos told us, is just a man walking with a woman so she will fall in love with him. At least during the time she’s dancing with him. I don’t think any of the women in the class fell in love with me yesterday.

A few hours ago Laurel made a point of showing me the bruise on her foot where a variety of unlovable partners, including moi, had stepped on her. I feel good that I wasn’t the only one. I’ll feel better when I can step cross footed anywhere near as smoothly as Peter, our instructor, can.

You can try this at home, even if you know nothing about Tango. Stand toe to toe with your partner, man’s hands on woman’s shoulders, woman’s hands on man’s chest (guess you could reverse things if you’re intimate with each other.)

Man steps forward, woman steps backward. With parallel stepping, you’re both stepping with the same side leg as you face each other. If the man steps forward with his left leg, the woman steps backward with her right leg. Pretty simple. Feels natural.

With cross stepping, both the man and woman step with the same side leg in the absolute sense. Right and right. Or left and left. So as the woman steps back with her right leg, the man will step forward with his right leg. Not so simple. Feels unnatural.

Especially when I’d step forward with my right leg and bang into Laurel’s left leg. Which, entirely appropriately, was directly in my way. The woman, you see, always steps naturally. It’s the man who has to switch step his way from parallel to cross stepping.

The goal is to step between her legs and, if you wish, trap the forward foot. Or push the foot gently to one side so the woman has to step over it in one of those cool yin-yang “dance of love” moves.

Not so cool is the move that I kept repeating over and over, the one where I either step on Laurel’s retreating foot because I’ve moved too quickly, or on her stationary foot because I haven’t stepped between her legs.

Observing the semi-chaos on the dance floor, at one point Peter shut the music off and taught us another Tango truism.

“Guys, if you’re tentative and don’t step in confidently, your partner will do the same—step back tentatively. Then you’re going to bang legs and step on feet. You’ve got to lead boldly so she knows what to do. Also, don’t be afraid to be thigh to thigh. In some dances it’s bad form to touch legs. In Tango, it’s a good thing. If the man is in touch with the woman’s leg as he steps, it’s easy to move it out of the way.”

After that, we carried on. Sometimes the cross stepping felt good. Sometimes it didn’t. Just like life.

And also just like life, for an hour and fifteen minutes every man in the room was responsible when something went wrong. The women just kept on stepping backward naturally. The men had to figure out how to stay in touch with their partners and move as gracefully as possible with them.

Eventually I got used to always being wrong. After thirty-four years of being married, I’ve had lots of practice. I only wish that everything else in Tango came so easily.

Allison is one hot Tango girl

Oh, yeah. After watching last Wednesday’s “So You Think You Can Dance” episode on Fox, I agree with the high decibel assessment of judge Mary Murphy: You are one hot tamale, girl! You are hot!

She was speaking about Allison, a lyrical dancer who steamed up the floor with her partner Ivan, a hip-hopper. It blows me away that they were able to nail the Tango choreography after just a few days of instruction.

My wife, Laurel, and I have been taking Tango lessons for six months. I spotted only a few Allison and Ivan moves that we could duplicate. Which wouldn’t include this one.

Or this one, a highly sensual number in which Allison’s high heeled foot slowly teased its way up Ivan’s leg to his shoulder and down again. Hot tamale!

Tango is an amazing dance. To me the waltz is romantic but not sexy. Hip hop is sexy but not romantic. Tango has it all. Especially when highly skilled dancers like Allison and Ivan do their thing.

But not only then.

Browsing through the “tango” selections of YouTube, I came across this video of a couple doing a simple, sensuous Tango walk. In front of some elevators, no less. It shows how Tango still can be muy romantic and sexy without the high octane moves Allison and Ivan showed off.

Here are some more photos of their A+ performance. I’ve watched every episode of So You Think You Can Dance over its two seasons. I’ve seen many Wow! moments, but Allison and Ivan’s 100 seconds on the dance floor topped them all.

I’m learning to Tango with life

I got sent to remedial Tango class last Monday night. The guest instructor, Carlos Rojas, observed me dancing with my wife for a while. Then he walked over and said, “You’re not letting her finish her steps. You’re going to dance with Jodi now. Every time you interrupt her moves, she’s going to stop.”

Jodi is Carlos’ tall, slim, charming, attractive, and highly skilled dance partner. With a teacher like that, I didn’t mind getting some remedial instruction. We started dancing. Then she stopped. We started again. We stopped again.

Eventually I began to understand what I was doing wrong. Basically, I’d gotten the idea in my head that leading meant doing what I had in mind. Continually.

After leading a step, my mental focus was immediately shifting to the next anticipated step. I’d lost touch with what my partner was doing. I wasn’t aware of what position she was in when I tried to lead another move. Jodi's frequent stops were telling me that she hadn’t completed her own following step, yet I had already started to lead a new move.

I love how Tango is a reflection of life. My friend Bill, a fellow dance student, has been writing about his own Tango life lessons here and here (read them; his essays are great). I’ve done the same, most recently musing about “The Romance of Tango.”

The fresh insight that I got from Carlos and Jodi is that however I dance with a partner is a reflection of how I dance with myself. Whatever problems I have dancing Tango are intimately related to the difficulties I have partnering with me.

This morning I started to butter a piece of bread. While my knife was still spreading dabs of heart-healthy Take Control, I realized that I’d already begun to think about taking the newspaper upstairs and reading it while I watched some cable news. I was several steps ahead of myself and the day had barely begun.

Yeah, it’s a cliché: “Be here now.” But clichés often contain a lot of wisdom. That’s why they’re repeated so frequently.

You can’t dance Tango properly if you aren’t aware of what’s happening at every moment. As it is happening. Not as you think it is about to happen, or as it just happened. You and your partner are dancing in the moment, not in the future or past. If you lose touch with the moment, you lose touch with your partner.

And yourself. Carlos told us that Tango is the Ph.D. of social dancing because it is so spontaneous. There are no set patterns. Tango flows from the music, the man, the woman, the setting, the mood. It is infinitely creative, ever-changing, unrepeatable.

Just like life.

I have my daily habits. Toast, newspaper, cable news. Then cereal, checking the Internet, emailing. But every day is different. I’m not the same; my wife and dog are not the same; the world is not the same. The daily dance never repeats itself.

So I’m making a resolve to Tango more attentively with the multitudinous partners I encounter every 24 hours. Laurel, Serena, store clerks, birds, sun and sky, blogging, the toilet, food, my car. The list is endless.

One thing at a time. Allow my partner to do his/her/its own thing, as I am doing mine. Don’t rush a move—either my own or someone else’s. Lead, follow, lead, follow. Allow yin and yang to alternate. Do, relax, do, relax. Move to life’s natural harmony, not to the beat of my own self-centered intention.

Carlos said that if your partner doesn’t do what you anticipated, you don’t stop in your tracks and think “What the #&!@?” Rather, her move becomes the next step. And you Tango on.

Just like life.

The romance of Tango

“Tango is just a man walking with a woman so she will fall in love with him.” As soon as our guest Tango instructor spoke those words, I knew that he had the rapt attention of all the women in the class. The men, too.

I’m a romantic at heart. But after sixteen years of marriage I’ve gotten a bit lackadaisical in the romance department. The shelves are thinly stocked except at the predictable times: our anniversary, Laurel’s birthday, Valentine’s Day.

So both of us are enjoying the romance of Tango through our Monday classes here in Salem. Last week Carlos Rojas led us through helpful drills and shared some Tango philosophy.

“Guys, Tango is simple,” he said. “It’s just walking with the woman in a way that will make her fall in love with you.” Carlos and his lovely dance partner demonstrated how this should be done. Then, we all followed suit.

The woman takes the man’s arm. And when he’s ready, he takes a step. She follows, because she’s attached to him. Where he goes, she goes. Leisurely. Calmly. Together. He leads with his whole body, not just his arm. He doesn’t pull her around; he brings her with him gently, yet decisively.

“The man is responsible for his partner,” Carlos added. “He makes sure that they don’t run into any other couples. He ensures that she doesn’t get hurt. He takes care of her.” Then Carlos asked a question of the class, which he answered himself:

“So, who is at fault if the woman makes a wrong move? Always, the man. Always. If he led her to make a wrong move, then it’s his fault. And if he didn’t know that she wasn’t skilled enough to follow his lead, then it’s also his fault. So, it’s always the man’s fault.”

Now Carlos definitely had the women in the palm of his hand. But again, the men too. I understood what he was saying. It was part of the romance of Tango. And he made the men in the class feel better with his next words.

“Ladies, you’ve got to remember that Tango is five times more difficult for the man. Be patient with him. He’s got to lead. He’s got to be aware of the music. He’s got to know where other dancers are in the room. He’s got to avoid them when there’s a chance of a collision. All you have to do is follow. That’s much easier.”

In her book, “The Tao of Tango,” Johanna Siegmann says, “Tango represents the very essence of the male and female energies; the dancers are the physical representation of these energies in each of us…Life, after all, is a Tango—the male and female energy in each of us engaged in a dance to strike the right balance.”

This is what I find so romantic about Tango, how the dance reflects the archetypal essence of how a man and woman should relate. It brings you back to old-fashioned basics. Courtesy, chivalry, seduction, sensuality.

Arm in arm, walking in a way that will make her fall in love with you.

Salem, let’s Tango!

Come on, admit it: you have a Tango fantasy. You’ve seen Tango danced sensuously in movies. You’ve heard it called the original forbidden dance (it’s got some company now). You’ve pictured yourself in poses like…

OK, my fellow Salem residents, you and I will never look like that. But we can still dance Tango. I’m doing it. And believe me, if I’m doing it, anybody can do it.

So get yourself down to the Micah Building next Monday evening. Give Tango a try. Beginners are welcome. Not-beginners too. Here are the particulars:

Argentine Tango Classes
Every Monday, except holidays.
7pm beginners, 8pm guided and intermediate practice
Micah Building Ballroom (second floor), 680 State Street
Smoke and alcohol free. All ages.
No partner needed. Drop ins welcome.
Leather soled shoes recommended.
Cost: $7 per session adults, $5 students

Laurel and I will miss the May 8 class. But we’ll be back Tangoing on the 15th. A guest instructor from Portland, Carlos Rojas, will be teaching on May 15 and May 22. I hear he’s good. He might even look like…

But again: everybody can feel Tango no matter how you look or how old you are. After a few months of classes once in a while I blurt out to Laurel, “Wow! That felt Tango-y!” Which means, of course, most of our moves don’t. We’re making progress, though.

I’ve written some about our Tango experiences. Here, and here. So has my friend and fellow Tango-er Bill Long, here and here.

Come and join us. A Salem Tango Classes flyer can be downloaded by clicking below. Help publicize this much needed addition to our town’s social scene.
Download tango_flyer.doc

The Tao of Tango explains why politicians stumble

Life is a dance. I’ve just finished reading a little book, “The Tao of Tango,” that has some good insights about why we stumble. Both Taoism and Tango are all about yin and yang, following and leading, female and male energies.

When these dualities aren’t balanced, missteps occur. Harmony goes down the drain. Shit happens. On our little personal dance floor of life, these stumblings are of little consequence except to us and those few with whom we come in contact.

But when you’re a political leader, falling over your feet can bring a whole nation to its knees. Or even the world.

Johanna Siegmann wrote The Tao of Tango. It’s self-published, over-priced, and contains a disturbing number of typos. Still, it was worth the $18 I sent off to Amazon.com. Laurel and I are into our second month of tango lessons. As I wrote back in February, “we tango and also get tangled.” I need all the tips I can get.

We’re dancing more smoothly now. Siegmann explains why.

The dance is not only the perfect representation of the male and female energies working together, it is also the experience of both energies within each person. While the female energy is submissive, reactive, and responsive, the male energy is directive, active, dominant. All people need both these energies to function properly.

In the man, the male energy leads. In the woman, the male energy is what keeps her separate from her partner and what she uses to complete the steps. Without it she would lose her mobility and be unable to actualize her creativity.

In the man, the female energy is what keeps him connected to his partner, what allows him to wait for her, and where the imagination for the next step comes from. In the woman, the female energy is what allows her to surrender to her partner, to accept and trust the process of being led. If there is an imbalance of either energy in either partner, he would be unable to lead her, and she would be unable to follow him.

In Tai Chi, which I know much better than Tango, yin and yang forces almost always alternate. For example, an energetic male push forward is followed by a receptive female acceptance backward.

It’s a truism that you don’t meet force with force. If someone leans on you, you relax and release your tension. That changes the dynamics, leading to fresh possibilities (like watching the other person stumble forward as the “wall” that is you is no longer there to be leaned on).

Observing today’s political scene, it’s interesting to apply The Tao of Tango principles to President Bush. Bush’s big problem is that he moves to only a single dynamic. He considers it a virtue to always be aggressive, never back down, stay the course, not admit mistakes.

Bush’s admirers interpret this as forceful male leadership. But they don’t recognize that he’s seriously underdeveloped in the other half of the qualities that make for skillful political dancing. He’s clueless when it comes to listening receptively, adapting to changed circumstances, being open to other people’s (and nation’s) ideas.

This is why the Bush Administration is falling all over itself now. They did all right so long as Congress and the citizenry allowed themselves to be puppets. When you’re pulling all of the strings and there’s no independent response from the other side, it’s easy to look like you know what you’re doing.

But that’s like dancing with a passive mannequin. It’s not really dancing. When the mannequin comes to life, as elected officials, voters, and the media are finally doing, that’s when Bush’s political dance skills become evident. And what we’re seeing are an awful lot of missteps.

In Tango, as in life, you have to move with your partner. Which, for the President, is the entire population of the United States—and indeed, the world. You need to be able to balance your male and female energies, your leading and following, your dominance and submission.

Bill Clinton knew how to do that. George Bush doesn’t. I long for the days when we had a president who really knew how to dance. Hopefully 2008 will bring us a much better partner in the Oval Office.

“Assassination Tango” and our inner Argentinas

After a friend heard that Laurel and I were taking tango lessons, she suggested that we watch “Assassination Tango,” a 2003 movie starring, written, and directed by Robert Duvall.

The tango scenes were marvelous, so far removed from the shuffling around that I’ve been able to master in a few lessons that to call what I’m doing “tango” is a stretch. Still, I could recognize a few moves that are (minimally) in my repertoire, such as the ocho.

I learned from another review that in real life Duvall studies tango with Luciana Pedraza, who in the movie plays Manuela, an Argentine tango dancer who gives lessons to John J. (Duvall)—a New Yorker who is in the country to kill a wealthy general.

Googling deeper into the movie, I uncovered another connection between fact and cinema fiction: Pedraza, 31 years old when the film was made, is (or was) the girlfriend of 72 year old Duvall.

My reaction is, “Way to go Robert!” However, I just told my wife what I’d learned about their May-December relationship and she said, “That’s disgusting, a forty year age difference!” Actually, it’s forty-one years, but I didn’t want to tell Laurel this and make her even more disgusted.

For some reason I don’t find anything disturbing about a much younger woman being attracted to a grizzled old guy. (Could the reason be that I’m a guy who is getting increasingly grizzled and old? It’s a theory.)

“Assassination Tango” has its faults, as the Ebert review points out. I enjoyed the movie, though, and not just for the amazing tango dancing. The dialogue sounds genuine, like how people actually talk. Now that I know Duvall and Pedraza have a thing going in real life, I can see why their conversations in the movie seem so unforced.

There’s one scene in a coffee house that appeared especially natural. In an interview Duvall said that it was minimally rehearsed and, like the rest of the movie, apparently partly improvised. Here John J. and Luciana are getting to know each other after he has watched her dance a few times. They chit-chat for a bit, then John J. gets more serious:

John J.: “If I was a younger man, living here…I’m just theorizing…Do you think I’d have a chance?”

Manuela: “A chance for what?”

John J.: “With you.”

Manuela: “Well, you have it now.”

John J.: [looking surprised] “Wha…What?”

Manuela: “Welcome to Argentina, my friend.” [both laugh]

John J.: “O.K.” [changes subject, starts talking about coffee]

This transcript doesn’t do justice to the subtleties of the scene. When I watched the movie last night I thought, “That girl is a natural actress. It doesn’t seem like she’s acting.” Well, she isn’t a professional actress, but she sure can act.

“Welcome to Argentina, my friend.” A great line.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if life in general, and the United States in particular, was a lot more like Manuela’s Argentina? I’m not talking about a world where attractive young women are open to the advances of much older men, but a world where almost anything is possible—where rigid societal rules and mores don’t limit people’s natural inclinations.

This country isn’t that “Argentina” where life is embraced exuberantly, all sides of it. In a scene where John J. meets Manuela’s family, her mother and father talk about the tango philosophy. “It’s about life,” one says. “And death,” adds the other. Everything. Nothing excluded.

Gays. Straights. Believers. Atheists. Blacks. Whites. Native-born. Foreign-born. Young. Old. Women. Men. White-collar. Blue-collar. Progressive. Conservative. All real. All part of life. And death.

I’m getting tired of politicians, or anybody, who focuses on what divides us rather than what unites us. Or who puts restrictions on what is allowed rather than expanding the range of personal choices.

I want to live in “Argentina.” Not the country in South America, but the borderless land of laughter, dance, and free expression Manuela welcomed John J. too. That place isn’t far away for any of us. We just need to let our inner Argentinas out.

We tango, and also get tangled

Laurel and I survived our second Argentine Tango class tonight. Even more: we enjoyed ourselves. Perhaps at least a little bit of Latin blood flows in these primarily Germanic veins.

For a brief moment I even seemed to feel a tinge of macho Tango Attitude, as my lips curled into a proudly passionate expression, which, however, was cut short by our legs getting entangled on that damn cross-step/pause move where one of us always seems to be stepping too slowly or pausing too little.

Whatever. We made progress tonight at the Micah Building Ballroom on State Street. Here in Salem on Mondays for a mere $7 per person ($5 students) you can enjoy an hour-long beginners class at 7 pm and stay for intermediate and guided practice at 8 pm.

We’ve taken a swing dance class before, but never followed up on the lessons by actually dancing in public. I’m hopeful that tango will be different. For one thing, it’s slower, so when you screw up it’s not so obvious. Falling over your partner’s feet is easier to disguise at a lower rate of speed.

With the swing classes I really enjoyed the instructor’s little speech at the start of every session: “Guys, this is the only time in your life when there’s no argument about it. You get to lead the woman around.” The only problem, of course, is that a leader has to know where he is going. And how to get there.

The tango instructor gave me some tips tonight. As I noted in my last post about the Dog Whisperer, there are some evident similarities between being the leader of the pack in your dog/human den, and being the leader on the dance floor. I was told, “You have to be absolutely sure about where you want your partner to go. Then, guide her there.”

I was cut in on near the end of the class by a guy considerably younger and cuter than me. Laurel enjoyed dancing with him. His “shall we dance?” approach was to simply walk up to a woman and hold out his hands. Didn’t matter if she was already dancing with somebody else. He was irresistible. The kid always got the girl.

A friend of ours, Bill Long, also is taking tango lessons. He’s had four now, and we’ve had two, so we consider him a quasi-pro and sought advice from him throughout the evening. Wild Bill Tango is getting pretty good.

(For more info. about the classes call 503-304-8646 or 541-231-7330.)