Let's Face the Music and Dance

“A good dancer is one who listens to the music... We dance the music, not the steps. Anyone who aspires to dance never thinks about what he is going to do. What he cares about is that he follows the music. You see, we are painters. We paint the music with our feet..." ~ Carlos Gavito



Gosh, I haven't watched this video in ages. This video feels positively prehistoric to me.

It's the only video I have of me dancing tango.

I have to try to love this video more than feel terribly uncomfortable watching it (i.e., cringing) because I was having such a wonderful time dancing, with a leader that I love to dance with. But I also have that inner critic watching me, looking at my form, tsk-tsk-ing at all of the mistakes I made. And then that brings up all of my other tango-related issues.

But then I look again, take my imaginary hands away from my eyes and remember the warm summer night, the music, my new shoes (that dance was a test drive for a new pair of shoes from Argentina), the pleasure of dancing to a song I love with someone who likes dancing with me. The impromptu creativity of the dance where you never know what the next step will be but you just feel the music and follow what you are led. Painting the music with our feet.

And at the end. How we laughed.

I have to send an email to that guy and say hello. It's been forever and a day. I need to get my dancing shoes out. For reals.

***

ps.: The story of the video is here.

pss.: "Let's Face the Music and Dance" is one of my favorite Astaire/Rogers numbers, from Follow the Fleet. I know the film is not as well known as some of their others, but I really like it.

psss.: A nod o' the head to Gabby and Lala, who both in their own little ways inspired this post even though they might not realize it. And to my sweet friend Red Shoes, who was brave first and who will get me back on the dance floor sooner than later.

Double Your Pleasure

I have been wearing tango shoes all day, since 8am (oops, I mean Wednesday am--I am writing this after midnight).

I don't know why this never occurred to me, to wear my Comme Il Fauts during the day, to work. But it finally dawned on me that I don't need to save my stash of beauties for the dance floor.

I adore the shoes above and they fit really well. But for some reason this particular pair doesn't have enough support in the heel and I can't dance in them. They have actually been collecting dust, which is totally shameful. So I wore them to work and they made me very happy: to have tango feet at work, on the train, walking down the street. And I got compliments on them, too--a bonus.

And then when it was time to dance tonight, I switched to these puppies. I think these are a little too sassy for the office. I'll have to work up the courage to be seen in these shoes during daytime hours.

***

The milonga was nice, okay. No fireworks tonight. I saw some friends I have missed a lot. And I left earlier than I thought I would. You know, it happens.

But I was so happy to have that one dance, to "Milonga Triste," which, when I first started dancing tango, I used to listen to on continuous loop. I love this haunting piece.

When this song starts, it just makes me ache to dance to it. And luckily, someone asked me to dance so I didn't have to miss it.

He was very sweet and obviously loved the song as much as I do. He paused and moved to the music. And he smelled nice.

So that was a great way to end the day.

***

If you want to hear "Milonga Triste," I've found a lovely little video for you. The dancing perfectly matches the feeling of the music, another nice surprise before bedtime tonight:



Good night, everyone.

xo

Tango, For My Non-Tango Dancing Friends

This post is for my friends, new and old, who do not dance tango. (Those of you who do dance tango are welcome to read this anyway.)

When I started this blog (ostensibly so my mother could find out what I was up to in the Big City), I chose the name tangobaby because I had to think of something so I could get my gmail account. And then as I got used to blogging, I wrote a lot about tango because it's a big part of who I am, even when I'm not dancing. That quickly chosen name was well-chosen after all.

I was, and am, in love with the dance called tango. Even though I've obviously branched out to write about other things that excite, delight and interest me, I am still tangobaby at my core.

The name tangobaby: Tango, because to me that is the only real dance for me--despite what else I might say, and Baby, because this dance is so intricate, so involved, so enigmatic and unfathomly beautiful when the moment is right that I will always be a baby in tango. Always learning and growing, but never growing up.

I am happy to admit that tango is something I will never master (although as someone with a dilettante's nature, that is a rare thing: mastery), and because of that I will always keep dancing it, as much as I am able.

A little while ago I was trying to describe what tango really is to my sweet friend Relyn, who was delightfully curious. (What I was trying to explain is that tango is not what the mainstream culture thinks it is: as seen in Dancing With the Stars, over-edited Hollywood films, glitzy Forever Tango shows, ballroom tango (ugh), the rose in the teeth, and that hokey, smarmy pablum that is a total anathema to most tango devotees (and only uttered by those who don't dance): "Tango is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire." Blech.)

This is part of what I wrote to her in an email:

Imagine this: you are surrounded by people from all over the world, nice people, charming people. But you cannot speak their language and they cannot speak yours. And then the music starts, the lights lower, and a man takes your hand and you dance with him. You dance with him as though you have known him for your entire life, and you've only just met him. He smiles and you smile because you communicate perfectly.

That is tango. And that is true.

Tango is that lovely fantasy, a shared moment of pleasure and connection that might only last a few minutes, but is the nicest way I know to transcend, share and communicate with another person.

And then I saw this video that Sallycat posted on her blog. (For those of you who remember Sallycat from the last wonderful post...)

When I watched this, I got the chills. I watched this video in silent amazement and joy. This video, of Sallycat and her teacher Ariel, explains more about what tango really means--to dance it with your heart--than I ever could in a thousand-word essay. When you watch this, you are watching tango.




If you want to read more about Sallycat's video, click here.

Beautiful tango image by Métempsycose.

Run Away, Tangobaby

I wish I had a great followup story to my Tango Angel/crazy milonga last night, but I don't. I did try, though.

Tonight I went to the Milonga That Shall Remain Nameless. It's one I used to go to religiously back when it was crowded and the best game in town. And then it just wasn't my place anymore, so I started going elsewhere. (And lots of other people stopped going there, too, apparently. Which has nothing to do with me.)

I had seen on the calendar that Miriam Larici was supposed to perform tonight. For those of you who have seen Miriam, or like me, have had the opportunity to take classes with her, you know she is a gorgeous, amazingly talented, and super-wonderful lady. Just to see her for a ten-minute performance was enough to get me back to the Milonga That Shall Remain Nameless. I was also kinda hoping that maybe things had changed and I would enjoy going there again. No such luck.

Not only was Miriam not coming (sounds like a scheduling snafu because I seemed to be the only person expecting to see her) but the place--for me--well, I'll be PC and say it is just not where I'll be needing to frequent anymore. I now have exactly zero curiosity about the place.

To illustrate my point, I have selected a video clip that will give you an idea of my feelings on the evening's festivities (or lack thereof), where the rabbit would be the milonga and I would be King Arthur:



So now I am home, in my pjs, eating my dinner (some Junior Mints) and singing this song. Nothing better than some candy and a little Mick to revive your spirits:



Better luck next time, tangobaby. (But my eyeshadow looked hot. Oh well.)

***

PS. If you want to know what I was hoping to get a smidgen of tonight, click here for some awesome Miriam Larici performances. Watch the 3rd and 4th songs especially where she dances with Hugo Patyn. I was there in the crowd (no, I am not going to tell you where), and let's just say that was so exciting to see her dance like that. She has so much energy and grace--the woman is amazing. And Hugo is not too shabby himself.

PSS. I am kind of amused with myself that I was able to bring together Monty Python AND The Stones to illustrate a tango post.

Cinema Paradiso and Tango

The other night, I was at home watching a movie I haven't seen in ages: Cinema Paradiso. This film is a heartfelt tribute to the art of movies, and to the people that love them. If you haven't seen this film before, or you haven't watched it for a long time, you should watch it soon. The story is so simple and sweet, and the emotional score by Ennio Morricone is sweepingly beautiful and haunting. (You might find it derivative of the score from The Untouchables that was released the year before Cinema Paradiso, but who cares...it's lovely to listen to.)

Watch this clip: I promise it will make you happy (it's the best part of the movie).



So with that music fresh in my mind, it was wonderful to find what Psyche at Tango With Wings just posted . A beautiful video of Horacio Godoy and Cecilia García dancing the most gorgeous performance to this same haunting music. I had no idea who Cecilia García was until about 15 minutes ago, and now she enchants me. Watching her dance to this music is wonderful.

Now watch this clip, and next time you're at a milonga, see if you can ask the dj to play this for you...and find someone wonderful to share it with.

Silk Road Tango

“If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.”-- Alphonse de Lamartine

I have always had a fascination with Orientalism, the Silk Road, the Spice Route. Places well traveled by explorers, traders, pirates and armies. Lost cities and rediscovered ruins. Places where East and West came together and shared cultures and arts, but where they also clashed and struggled. Although the original Oriental Express stopped service last year, I still travel it in my imagination.

I have already been to one city on the Silk Road: Venice. And one city on the Orient Express: Paris.

I am wondering if my next trip will be to another place I've always dreamed of visiting along that fabled route: Istanbul.

I did not realize until lately that Istanbul has such a vibrant tango community, although my dreams of going to Turkey have been around for much longer than I've been dancing tango. However, I do have to admit that would be icing on the cake.

I just found this beautiful video of two dancers--Celine Ruiz and Damian Rosenthal, more inspiring dancers that now I must follow and watch for--filmed at a tango festival last year in Istanbul.

Tangoing along the Silk Road: it sounds too good to be true! (If any of you have danced in Istanbul, please let me know...even if I can't go yet, it will help me build my daydream database.)




Photo courtesy of National Geographic.

Sometimes Life Looks Better in Black and White...and Grey

Last night, I was watching these Murat and Michelle videos again (see below), and I wondered why they were so appealing to me, more than some of the others I watch. I love watching this couple, and their musicality and interpretation is swoon-worthy.

But I realized that part of what draws me in is that these videos are filmed in black and white.

There's something about the black and white aesthetic that allows us to focus on the nuances, the shadows: the visual equivalent of those ineffable parts that make tango what it is. Black and white reveals an inner life. There's a privateness to it.

It's the same reason why I love black and white movies so much. Faces are more interesting, more beautiful to me that way. Locations have more depth, more character.

Look at Rita Hayworth in You Were Never Lovelier (one of my favorite films ever), and then again in Cover Girl. Same gorgeous woman, but her face is incomparable in black and white.

Glorious color has its place, to be sure, but it also provides a distraction to the eye that can take away from the intensity of the action or the intimacy of the moment.



Murat and Michelle dancing in Tango Amor show in Maui, August 2007. The tango is "Remolino" by Francini Pontier and Raul Beron.




Tango improvisation by Murat and Michelle at the La Belle Epoque Milonga, New York City, June 9th, 2006. Music: "En Esta Tarde Gris".

The Milonga in My Mind

I won't be dancing tonight due to the most gigantic pile of laundry in my room. Me 'n Ms. Wellspring are going to take Ney and Jennifer's workshops in Seattle over the weekend, so when I say I haven't a thing to wear, it's really the truth.

So I will just have to have a milonga in my mind today. I think I will dance to Caceres. I don't get enough of him.

In BA, I danced the best milonga in my life to this song. It was in a class taught by the Dinzel's, with a sweet young teaching assistant that all of us had a crush on. Every time I hear this song I think about how incredible that dance was. It was like flying.

A Question for My UK Tango Friends

This great milonga traspie features Ricardo Maceiras and Veronica Lorenz dancing at the Tango Nagracha club in Holborn, London. Are these regular teachers in London or visiting guests?

So, are any of you guys in the background of this little video? I'm dying to know if you're there!

;-)

Tonight

I'm going dancing! (Finally!)

A class with Ney, and then a milonga.

In the meantime, I'll just watch Ney and Jennifer dance to keep me going until tonight.

First, my favorite vals: Desde el Alma (if I'm lucky, maybe I'll dance to this one, too.)



And then a second, just because I love to watch Jennifer's feet. Maybe I'll wear green shoes tonight, too.

Kooza

We went to see Kooza, Cirque de Soleil's newest show, last Friday.

Watching this performance was like seeing a dream come to life. The attention to detail--from the gorgeous costumes and makeup--to the live music, sets and lighting (thought of you, Ms. Red Shoes) enhances the already amazing performances and makes this a spectacle you don't want to end.

From CdS's website, here is a brief description of the show:


KOOZA tells the story of The Innocent, a melancholy loner in search of his place in the world.


KOOZA is a return to the origins of Cirque du Soleil: It combines two circus traditions – acrobatic performance and the art of clowning. The show highlights the physical demands of human performance in all its splendor and fragility, presented in a colorful mélange that emphasizes bold slapstick humor.


The Innocent's journey brings him into contact with a panoply of comic characters such as the King, the Trickster, the Pickpocket, and the Obnoxious Tourist and his Bad Dog.


Between strength and fragility, laughter and smiles, turmoil and harmony, KOOZA explores themes of fear, identity, recognition and power. The show is set in an electrifying and exotic visual world full of surprises, thrills, chills, audacity and total involvement.

My favorite part of the show was the performance of the three amazing contortionists, a young trio known as the "Magic Pixies." Which describes them perfectly. These gorgeous creatures wear body suits richly colored in gold and red, and perform their astonishing act on a dais that rotates. They are like living, flowing sculptures. They reminded me of dainty cloisonné scorpions, pretty yet powerful and strong.

The first clip below gives you a partial view of their act with clear footage and sound.





The second clip, which doesn't have the same production values, does showcase their entire routine (it starts at 2:42).

Part of what is so amazing to me are the ages of these fantastic performers: 11, 15 and 16. The youngest, Natasha Patterson, is a local girl from just over the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County.

The equally talented trapeze artist who performs before this trio is seventeen years old and speaks 5 or 6 languages. I think it's wonderful that some people are getting such an amazing jumpstart on life, and seem to be enjoying their talents and gaining a greater sense of the world, much more than most people ever will. In an age where many people yearn to be famous, but not necessarily talented, it's refreshing to see that for some young people, the love and dedication to what they do brings happiness and also recognition.

(Some tango-related topics in this vein include Danzarin's recent post, Johanna's post, and mine, the subjects of which also show that age is no barrier to talent.)

If you have an opportunity to see Kooza (the schedule is posted on the website link above), you should definitely do so. I think you'll be transported, fascinated and have a great time.

My Vintage Life

Last week, in addition to the San Francisco Silent Film Festival, I went to the SF Art Deco Show.

The Concourse was filled with vendors from around the country selling incredible vintage furniture, art, accessories and clothing. The recorded music of San Francisco's Royal Society Jazz Orchestra added to the energy of the room.

The Boy remarked that both of us are nostalgic for an era we never lived in, and it's quite true. Everything from the 20s to the 40s: movies, fashion, books, architecture, cars (and for me especially, the makeup and hairstyles)--we can't get enough of it. It seems more natural for me to be attracted to the look of things from those years than the present time. I have always been that way. It's almost like remembering, sometimes wistfully.

And then I made a beeline for the vintage clothing sellers. The selection was so overwhelming that I didn't end up buying anything at all. I felt like I was in a museum, but better, because I could touch the velvets and silks, and try things on. I spent a great amount of time trying on hats. It was heaven.

It's amazing to see how some of these delicate dresses have survived over the years and are still truly beautiful. At 2pm, there was a fashion show, and it was tailor-made for me. The theme was the Evolution of Dance and Fashion. The presentation started with the late 1800s and the waltz. All of the gowns were authentic to each period being described and they were exquisite. The dresses, most of which had such imaginative designs and details and beautiful beading, were so flattering to the women's figures. They enhanced their femininity without being overly revealing.

The fashions became shorter and more free-flowing as the waltz evolved into the foxtrot, Charleston, etc., all the way up to the Mashed Potato, but my interest peaked at the tango, of course. I wished I could have been one of the models (she didn't know how to demonstrate the steps like I could have) but more likely it was that I wanted to wear one of the dresses.

The merging of dance and fashion and films swirled through my head that day, especially since I ended up at the Silent Film Festival that evening.

I wanted to share the following tango movie clip with you: Rudolph Valentino in the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921). (You may have already seen it on Tango Love and Other Devil's great post about tango in the movies, but I think it's worth watching again.) I find this clip in particular so compelling. I like the energy and look of this short dance so much more than anything you could see on Dancing with the Stars and its ilk, that other brand of tango made for popular consumption.

As La Tanguera notes wisely, the style of dancing cannot be compared to the mastery of tango dancers then or now. I like watching this clip and viewing it as if I am seeing it for the first time, when the movie was released in 1921. According to wikipedia: The film was a commercial and critical success and made Valentino a star, earning him the nickname "Tango Legs." (And ladies, check out the spurs on his boots. In those days, it was the man who wore the dangerous stilettos, no?)

Talk about a shot heard around the world. Valentino had millions of adoring fans, so I'm trying to imagine the impact that his tango dancing must have had on the world at large. I'm guessing that he must have played an instrumental role in bringing tango into the awareness of the modern masses which, in some way, connects to us today.

Rush::Rain

Picture this:

The room, walls painted in dark deep red and gold, walls hung with drapes, twinkly lights from the ceiling (great decorating job, Tom!)

DJing by Homer, with a wonderful mix of old favorites and new music that was intriguing and exciting to dance to.

Rain pounding down outside, some windows open so you could hear the droplets hitting the pavement and the cars making those swooshy rain sounds on the street. Hard rain sometimes, like Singing in the Rain kind of downpour. Standing by the open window to get a mist of rainwater on your face to cool off once in a while.

A new dress, kimono-style and silky, in brown, red, pink and cream. With a brown sash. Red shoes. Nude fishnets. Sicily perfume. Sparkly bracelet, curly hair and my favorite: long lashes!

Ms. Tango Hours and time for a little catch up, and some hugs. Ladies I don't know who smiled at me while I was dancing. I could feel their smiles on me.

TWO Tango Angels! Confidently lead volcadas. Subtle caricias.

Driving home in the pouring rain with the window open.

Listening to my favorite car tango:



Feeling so alive!

What Rock Have I Been Under?

Okay, just one tango post because I can't believe I haven't seen this couple before and now this woman is my new tango goddess/heroine.

Nuit and Ms. Tango Hours are out at a wine bar and I'm here on the bed with a tummyache, looking at youtube videos and feeling poorly. (Gee, could it have been the gnocchi drowning in butter, followed by a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream?!)



Now I am going to try to apologize to my poor tummy and try to imprint this woman's every move into my cells. I am in awe of her magical feet.

A Vision of Tango

One of my other passions, which I've had much longer than tango, is cinema. It's something that fills in the cracks of my life and the more I watch and study different types of film, the more I realize there's so much to learn that I don't even know about yet (just like tango).

One thing that I wish there was more of, now that I'm able to dance tango, are quality films that express the beauty and truth of what tango really is.

Especially because it was a film, The Tango Lesson, that opened my eyes to the existence of tango in the first place. But now that I've seen that film again, after now studying and dancing regularly, I can't watch it with the same undiluted admiration because I watch the movie with a critical eye. (Also, I've read La Planchadora's review, which left me in tears from laughing.) Aside from youtube tango videos, which certainly fill a need, films that feature tango leave a lot to be desired. They either have random flashes of brilliant dancing and terrible stories, or mediocre dancing that is highly edited with mediocre stories.

What I like about the short film here is that it evokes a place where tango is a part of life. It's more of an atmosphere than anything else, but it feels truthful to me.


Tango from Jono on Vimeo.

Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head

So this morning it was raining pretty constantly, and as per usual, I was getting ready to leave the house without an umbrella, and The Boy was running around in his boxer shorts, trying to find an umbrella I could take with me.

But I don't want an umbrella. I like the rain.

The Boy tried to foist the gigantic blue parapluie on me. It's so big it's like walking under a geodesic dome. You could put an entire family under it. I used this monster once on a rainy walk through North Beach and I'm sure I poked someone's eye out with it (not on purpose, of course).

I know this is one of the ways he tries to keep me safe and protect me, which is very sweet and I love that about him. But it's also fun to see him with brow furrowed. He doesn't understand why someone would want to get rained on.

Actually, I'm not too sure myself, except for that this light rain feels nice. And you can't sing this song to yourself if you have an umbrella (and yes, I really did sing it to myself today. You should try it too sometime. It's fun!):

Raindrops keep falling on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed,
Nothing seems to fit.
These raindrops keep falling on my head
They keep fallin'

So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he got things done,
Sleepin' on the job,
These raindrops keep falling on my head
They keep fallin'

But there's one thing I know,
The blues they send to meet me
Won't defeat me,
Won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep falling on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red,
Crying's not for me,
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free,
Nothing's worryin' me.

If it rains harder, next time I'm going to wear a yellow slicker and do Singin' in the Rain instead. I'll just need to find a Gene Kelly to dance with, too.



And in case you haven't seen this before, or haven't seen this for a long time, here is the Tango in the Rain scene from The Tango Lesson, courtesy of Milonga Is Like a Box of Chocolates.

Gavito y Geraldine

Laura, my new birthday-sharing sister in Argentina, sent me this link. She is an admirer of the late Gavito.

Although the energy of the dancing is wonderful and I'll watch their movements over and over again, I love how they are both laughing and looking like they're having such a fantastic time.

Update: Oops, just realized that Tango Junkie linked to this video too, a few weeks ago. But he had a lovely post, Make Her Look Beautiful, to go with it. You know what though...this video is so great that it's worth watching many times.

Heartstrings

Alex posted a really beautiful video with his favorite milonga: Flor de Monserrat. He said that's the song he plays over and over again.

It got me thinking about the song I have on continuous loop, either in the car or in my head. It makes me happy when I'm feeling low, and it makes me happier when I'm already in a good mood. It's a vals, not a milonga.

Desde El Alma. I can never listen to it too many times. It's the one song that will make me put my dancing shoes back on when my feet are killing me and put my car keys back in my bag.

This is a really sweet interpretation. A stage show but the choreography really captures the wistfulness of the music. Tell me what your most oft-repeated piece of music is. Maybe I need to add to my list.

En Tus Brazos (In Your Arms)

Wow!

Have you seen this?!!

It's called En Tus Brazos (In Your Arms), and it is a touching short film: an amazing combination of animation and a realistically told, yet fanciful, tango love story. I'm dying to know more about the guys who did this. It's really first-rate.

I can't wait to hear what you think.

Here's the link again...


***Spoiler alert: Watch the movie first and then read the text below.


***

Here's the information I could find out about this movie:

Enjoy the beautiful French animation movie "En Tus Brazos" about how nothing can stop a tango dancing couple ... not even fate. It abounds with creativity, sentiment and argentine tango.

The greatest tango dancer of the 20's is stuck in a wheelchair after a tragic accident. Thanks to his wife, he recovers the use of his legs, the time of one imaginary dance, ending entreating passionately "Don't stop, hold me tight."

Directed by François-Xavier Goby, Edouard Jouret and Matthieu Landour. France 2005. Presented on festivals in San Diego (Siggraph 2007, Award of Excellence), Annecy (France), Argentina (Mar del Plata), Poland (ReAnimacja), Auch (France), Miami (Romance), Spain (Animac), California (San Diego), Monaco (Imagina), France (Valenciennes), Bristol, Séoul and Paris.

***

Here's an interview I found with the director, François-Xavier Goby.

Johanna Made Me Do It

This is a close runner-up to the tragedy posted on Alex's blog recently.

Johanna sent this to me today at work. I think we have to give her a lot of credit for finding it first.

My hives are starting to go away now, just in time for Ney and Jennifer's class at La Pista.

Oh, I can only hope that Ney and Jennifer are even a teeny tiny bit as good as the people in this video clip!