Disassociation

Those of us who dance serious tango know the feeling. The one you get when your torso and your feet don't actually move together. They are like two separate entities joined at the navel. In close embrace, feet don't tangle with your partner, two bodies move as one unit with four legs. It is pure bliss.

So last night, I had a conversation with someone (who shall remain nameless). We were talking about connection, the level of dance in our community etc. So far, so good. Until this individual pointed at a lead and indicated that he was one of the leads that didn't connect correctly. I mentioned that he didn't have a full enough torso connection, but that he was one of the few leads that was able to disassociate. And was told he had to or he'd "get in the follow's way". Um, yeah. That's the whole point. If you don't disassociate, you get in our way. And we get in your way. Our feet tangle, and we have to resort to strange methods to keep from getting stepped on.

The person I was talking to figured that with less connection to our torso, this lead would dance better. I wonder where the idea that disconnecting rather than disassociating is the answer. It might seem like the same thing, but it isn't. Personally, when my lead disconnects, I hunch my shoulders in an attempt to reconnect, throwing off everything. If I disconnect as well, I get stepped on, or lose my balance as I try to follow their body.

The lead starts with the chest. All the intention is from this connection. Our torso's should connect from the navel to the collar bone (more or less). There is this new "V" embrace, but the connection is still from the waist up. If you lose connection in a molineta, it breaks the rhythm. Disassociation will help to prevent the loss of connection. First your torso moves into the circle, then the legs follow.

This video from the Portland Tango Festival in October shows what I mean. Watch how little room there is between lead and follow. Murat and Michelle, Nick and Tara and Somer and Agape are amazing. (Nick dances with Murat part way through the video and Tara and Michelle dance together, just so you know who's who).


Once you've felt it, you can't go back. In the meantime, I try to explain how it works and hope more leads (and follows) figure it out.

Tango Hierarchy

In Buenos Aires, the hierarchy of dance was quite set. Beginners had to earn their place on the dance floor. Touristas rated lower than beginners until they proved themselves and then were danced with according to ability. Tangueros watched from the sidelines assessing posture, footwork, and connection. And it was hard to break in as someone had to take that initial risk.

In Victoria, it seems that beginners rate higher than those that have earned their place. I question this. Is it their personality? Ability? I'm all for working with our beginners to get them up to speed, but not when it comes at the cost of leaving out those who have danced for years.

Music

Music is such an integral part of how we dance. In Buenos Aires, the music was an expression of passion, release, longing and hope. Slow and intense, it is the best music to dance to. This music allows a woman to express her individuality, sensuality and passion. One of my greatest pleasures was time for interpretation. Dancing slow enough to taste the music. It came in through the pores and permeated my being.

Here at home, I don't dance well. The faster I go, the less I feel. I dance disconnected, too much concentration, not enough feeling. For me, tango is about feeling, not about speed. Why do we pass one another like we are driving race cars? Hey, that makes me the race car! Forget embellishments, forget footwork, just hang on tight and try not to fall over. Good thing my shoes are so sexy.

The Chest

Connection. Tango is all about connection. I've been taking private lessons with Jaun Ruggieri. He is a young fellow that teaches with Roberto Herrera. Unfortunately his style so far seems to be salon only. Or maybe it is just that is where my weakness lies, so it's what we are working on. Unfortunately it made me think I couldn't dance. At the milongas, I became so nervous that it became reality. What a bummer, a 5,000 mile trip just to sit and watch.

So I borrowed a cliche (if at first you don't succeed, blah, blah, blah) and went shopping instead. Markets, malls, small stores. And of course shoes. If I bought the shoes I have to dance, but I was letting it simmer on a back burner so to speak. Here in Buenos Aires, you don't have to go to just a milonga, so I've enjoyed a few live shows as well. Narcotango, Color Tango, a show at Cafe Tortoni and one at a place called Pigmallion.

At Club Grisel on Monday, I was sitting yet again. Although I was dancing consistently each evening, I've been spoiled and three or maybe four tandas in a full night of dancing no longer seems like much. So I decided I just didn't care. Three tandas in a night would have to do, I couldn't get the look, and watching would have to work as well. And then the dancing started! Great dancing. Muey Bien is understandable even to my small vocabulary of Spanish.

Eduardo returned on Tuesday, and on Thursday I had my first private lesson with him. I'd really only had a few milongas where there was any consistant dancing, but he said to me "You've been daning with the Argentinians. I can feel it in your chest." Waht a wonderful thing to hear. And it has only gotten better. Now all I'm hearing is muey bien and muey linda.

Hum, Sunday tomorrow. Wonder which milonga is the best.