LOGO AIRESDEMILONGA CON ARGENTINA
LOGO AIRESDEMILONGA CON ARGENTINA

Dancing Tango. Part Six. The Difficulty of Doing Steps and Figures, and the Solutions Afterward.

Learning to Dance Tango: Beyond the Basic Steps

Daily actions like walking, driving, or eating were once done without thought. Suddenly, I found myself in tango, where I had to move differently, analyzing each motion to learn it.

Indeed, our brains automate movements that we initially think about. Once a pattern is created, we stop thinking about them, just like when we learn to drive a car or play a sport. «Bad habits,» in this sense, are simply incorrect movements that have become automated.

The Search for True Movement

I remember the endless classes: «1, 2, 3… and 8,» «the little sandwich,» «the drag,» «the turn,» and so many other figures with catchy names. Time and again, with as many teachers as I could attend. My mind was fixated on my feet; I watched them to see where I was putting them, trying not to step on my partner, whom I constantly bumped into, our knees colliding.

I’d glance sideways at the advanced dancers and others who were already dancing with ease. None of them seemed to be doing the supposedly «8 basic steps.» I wondered, «Why am I doing them? If they’re called basic, it must be because they form the foundation of the teaching,» I thought, and told myself, «Let’s push forward!»

The Key Discovery: Body Language

A lot of time passed, and I still felt like I wasn’t really dancing. «This isn’t working,» I thought. So, I stopped to observe intently, to study every part of the body of those who were already dancing—the advanced dancers and even the teachers themselves. I discovered something no one had ever told me, and which, after putting it into practice, helped me immensely with my learning and my dancing. To this day, I see all milongueros doing it: body language.

I then decided to intensify my classes to learn more and to test what I had discovered. Of course, I shared it with some partners to practice and see the results. What I had to do from that moment on was a radical change: first, stop looking at the floor to avoid using my feet as a guide and force myself to use my body as such.

The Intention of Movement

That’s how I discovered that the foundation lay in what I had learned from walking. Before moving my legs, I had to show an intention by moving my body first. I learned that the woman immediately and naturally understood what the movement would be and in which direction. I no longer bumped into her or pushed her, nor did our knees collide.

Basically, I had to master this intentionality in all directions to then master any other step or figure. The woman (like all people) naturally receives the intention of movement and plays her part, accompanying the man in the complete movement. (NOTE: «Playing her part» means knowing how to do it, having learned it beforehand).

  • Straight forward: Like walking, first the intention with the body: my torso subtly moves millimeters forward, and then my legs follow.

  • Sideways: My shoulders subtly move towards the direction I want to go, and then I move my legs.

  • Backward: This involves creating or incrementally widening the space between my body and hers, a movement opposite to advancing.

  • In the turn to my left: My body always leads hers; the shoulder position is key, gently aided by my left hand. In the embrace, the forearm gently provided a small pressure on her body; with practice, this last part became unnecessary.

  • In the turn to my right: My body always demonstrating that intention, gently pushing with my palm on hers.

  • In stops: My body stops first, then my legs; the woman receives this and stops perfectly with me.

Lessons Learned and the Humility of the Milonguero
• During my apprenticeship and during my activity as a milonguero, which has become a philosophy of life, giving me sociability, health, and entertainment, I learned many things, some of which I wish to share without offending anyone; this is just my perspective.
• I learned that, when my body was inert, it bothered me when a woman moved alone, let alone when she did endless figure eights. Since I didn’t know how to stop her, I patiently waited for her to stop.
• Sometimes I had to dance with an advanced woman. There I learned humility in learning: not to show that I knew how to do the newly learned step, but to show her that I needed her help to practice it.
• Helping my classmates once I had mastered what I had learned could be misinterpreted by both the partner and the teacher. I had to maintain my role as a student, and only that.
• Mastering the step at that moment didn’t mean I was going to do it the same way in the next class or at the milonga; in a few days, I would forget it. To avoid forgetting the step or figure, I practiced it several times, several days, until my brain formed the pattern and I did it automatically.
• If I practiced it in class, I was paying for it, so I preferred to learn something new. So, I did it repeatedly at home, which was free, and I practiced it at milongas with a friend, sharing lessons, always using the center of the dance floor (at that time, practice sessions didn’t exist, or I wasn’t familiar with them).
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Intuition and Improvisation
• Over time, I acquired the ability to learn faster. And even if the teacher didn’t say so, I learned the steps, and as I practiced them, I used the intentionality of the movement with my body, primarily my torso. After noticing my partner moving, I would move my legs and continue with the figure. Or the other way around: I would stop my legs and use my body to move the woman. Sometimes I could even say I was following my partner in order to step together.
• Also, over time, I acquired the ability to appreciate musical silence, to dance the pause to intensify passion. I realized that dancing nonstop like a rhythmic machine only denoted skill and lacked the passion, to feel the embrace and soul that fills a partner.
• I learned to appreciate the small subtleties of a woman’s movement, whether to follow her, to understand her, to give her space and time.
• Likewise, over time, dancing in the milonga, simply by mastering the intention and the movements, the steps and figures emerged on their own. I achieved that improvisation that seduced the woman, that always kept her attentive, because my movements were neither repetitive nor predictable.
• As a long-time milonguero, I was able to confirm what my teacher Carlos Gabito used to say: they are what define a good dancer. To achieve this, you must make her dance well, make her shine with softness and subtlety, and, most importantly, make her feel the dance.