*Note: for some of the non-tango dancers who may be reading this blog, a tanda is a set of songs, usually played by the same orchestra, ranging from about 3-5 songs each (usually 4).
I was chatting with a friend in Taiwan at the milonga last night, and we talked about the concept of continuous tandas.
I've mostly danced in North America, so I'm accustomed to dancing multiple tandas with people I really enjoy dancing with. Even if I have intense feelings on the dance floor, I'm able to shut off as I leave the dance floor. My Taiwanese friend, however, noted that if someone dances many tandas in a row, there is definitely "something" going on.
I explained that I did it all the time. He was surprised. Surely they hit on you? Nope. There was often some mild flirtation, but nobody ever expected to take me home just because they danced with me for many tandas. Anything remotely close to a tango relationship I had always blossomed off of the dance floor, through meals, hanging out (in a non-tango setting), chatting...
I've never been to Argentina, but I hear that the culture there is rather different (or perhaps even similar to Taiwan). Friends tell me that multiple tandas = coffee, and coffee = bed.
A good dance connection CAN lead to hanging out, which *may* blossom into something else, but this means that you were compatible in the first place, outside of the context of dancing.
When I was in my first ever tango class and was in the same class as a gorgeous charismatic young man. On the first day I gladly rotated to him. By the end of the class I was trying to avoid him. He stepped on my toes too much and didn't care about tango as much as he cared about flirting.
My theory is that tango nerds often find other tango nerds wildly attractive. Those who invest a lot of time on the dance and music (and not necessarily sex) get an advantage. They'll also (in North America) dance more continuous tandas. But for me (and most North American dancers), multiple tandas only mean that I really enjoy dancing with someone. And I enjoy dancing with their personalities. (There are a few decent dancers I refuse to dance with because they're not nice people).
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Why I Love and Hate the Cabeceo
*Note: Back when I wrote this post, I'd been spelling it as "cabaceo." I've since been corrected (thanks, Terpsichoral TangoAddict!). It's "cabeceo," and it comes from "cabeza," which means "head."*
Several years ago at the Houston Tango Marathon, I arrived at a milonga and suddenly felt a piercing gaze from the back of my skull. I turned around, and in the farthest away corner of the room, a man I'd never met before clearly but subtly gestured me towards the dance floor.
I accepted immediately. Anyone who is able to cabeceo me as such a distance must know what he's doing, I thought. And I was right; he was wonderful. We ended up dancing perhaps 20 tandas over the weekend. I began to really like the cabeceo. I would use it from the other side of the room for people I wanted to dance with, and felt like I had my own little secret when someone cabeceo'd me. In fact, I started to fear the men who walked up right to my face and stuck their hands in my nose; more often than not, these men were as subtle in their dance as their "invitation."
So I began to love the cabeceo. A way for someone to ask another to dance without risk of losing face. Even I began to initiate the invitation more. I was usually so shy!
But I also realized something I began to do. On days I wanted to sit and chat with friends, or just rest, I would often keep my eyes downcast, or even suddenly dive into my purse to look for something when I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my skull. People talked about the tango community being cold and unfriendly. I think it was largely due to the cabeceo culture! People make much less eye contact for acknowledgement (something Americans do ALL the time, everywhere), and I even found that there were times dancers said hello less or chatted less with people they didn't want to dance with, even though they loved being around them! The culture of the milonga was driving people who could have been really good friends away from each other.
So I began to hate the cabeceo. A way for someone to shut someone out---not even intentionally, just because they didn't want to dance. When someone ignores a cabeceo repeatedly, it feels like they're ignoring YOU. And trust me; I've felt it.
I still have a love-hate relationship with the cabeceo, but here is a tip I've found that's worked for me for getting dances with strangers: I go out of my way to introduce myself to people I want to dance with, and express interest in dancing with them **at some point** (but not necessarily now!). That way, they know the invitation is open and they could approach me at any time (even verbally). This is the tactic I use most often at festivals. On a Friday night, I'd find someone I wanted to dance with at the END of a milonga (when there's no pressure), and tell them my name, and that I had a lot of fun watching them dance. They can then watch me in the upcoming nights and decide on their own whether or not to approach me.
How can we can make tango communities warmer? Do you love, hate, or love AND hate the cabeceo?
Several years ago at the Houston Tango Marathon, I arrived at a milonga and suddenly felt a piercing gaze from the back of my skull. I turned around, and in the farthest away corner of the room, a man I'd never met before clearly but subtly gestured me towards the dance floor.
I accepted immediately. Anyone who is able to cabeceo me as such a distance must know what he's doing, I thought. And I was right; he was wonderful. We ended up dancing perhaps 20 tandas over the weekend. I began to really like the cabeceo. I would use it from the other side of the room for people I wanted to dance with, and felt like I had my own little secret when someone cabeceo'd me. In fact, I started to fear the men who walked up right to my face and stuck their hands in my nose; more often than not, these men were as subtle in their dance as their "invitation."
So I began to love the cabeceo. A way for someone to ask another to dance without risk of losing face. Even I began to initiate the invitation more. I was usually so shy!
But I also realized something I began to do. On days I wanted to sit and chat with friends, or just rest, I would often keep my eyes downcast, or even suddenly dive into my purse to look for something when I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my skull. People talked about the tango community being cold and unfriendly. I think it was largely due to the cabeceo culture! People make much less eye contact for acknowledgement (something Americans do ALL the time, everywhere), and I even found that there were times dancers said hello less or chatted less with people they didn't want to dance with, even though they loved being around them! The culture of the milonga was driving people who could have been really good friends away from each other.
So I began to hate the cabeceo. A way for someone to shut someone out---not even intentionally, just because they didn't want to dance. When someone ignores a cabeceo repeatedly, it feels like they're ignoring YOU. And trust me; I've felt it.
I still have a love-hate relationship with the cabeceo, but here is a tip I've found that's worked for me for getting dances with strangers: I go out of my way to introduce myself to people I want to dance with, and express interest in dancing with them **at some point** (but not necessarily now!). That way, they know the invitation is open and they could approach me at any time (even verbally). This is the tactic I use most often at festivals. On a Friday night, I'd find someone I wanted to dance with at the END of a milonga (when there's no pressure), and tell them my name, and that I had a lot of fun watching them dance. They can then watch me in the upcoming nights and decide on their own whether or not to approach me.
How can we can make tango communities warmer? Do you love, hate, or love AND hate the cabeceo?
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Fame
I once took a class from one of the most famous tango stars in the world. It was expensive, well attended, and he was a fantastic dancer. I didn't learn much. I never took his class again, but they continue to be well-attended because of his fame.
When I was traveling in Asia last week, I came across a very interesting phenomenon. There was a famous couple visiting. The milonga price was increased from the regular $10 to $25. The performances were lovely. When the performance was over, I was looking forward to dancing again, but the milonga was now a continuation of the performance. Whenever one of the teachers danced, everyone remained seated to applaud after EVERY SINGLE song.
I understand the need to watch rather than dance. I often ask my partner if we could sit so I could watch a beautiful couple. If they do something cool, I might occasionally catcall after them. But I had never seen a milonga stop for everyone to clap. Everyone in the room sat still. NOBODY danced. Some wanted to watch. Others were too shy to dance because it was now a performance they feared interrupting.
At the end of the night, one girl said, "wow, it was like watching an entire night of performances! How fun!" "Really?" I asked. She tilted her head, and finally admitted, "Well, not really...but since I wasn't getting any dances anyway, it was better than doing nothing."
Christa was one of my most influential instructors during my first year. When I first started, you wouldn't say Christa was "famous." She was, however, inspiring, encouraging, beautiful, and down-to-earth. Good teachers show not only movements, but they also teach you work ethics. Christa taught me how to work on my own to improve. She is now somewhat well-known because their students improve DRASTICALLY. Christa mentored. I have now begun to do something similar; a reflection of them. I work via by exchange with those who are incredibly serious about tango (and/or have little income).
What do you think about the milonga phenomenon in Asia? And what do you feel about teachers who were profoundly influential, but not famous?
When I was traveling in Asia last week, I came across a very interesting phenomenon. There was a famous couple visiting. The milonga price was increased from the regular $10 to $25. The performances were lovely. When the performance was over, I was looking forward to dancing again, but the milonga was now a continuation of the performance. Whenever one of the teachers danced, everyone remained seated to applaud after EVERY SINGLE song.
I understand the need to watch rather than dance. I often ask my partner if we could sit so I could watch a beautiful couple. If they do something cool, I might occasionally catcall after them. But I had never seen a milonga stop for everyone to clap. Everyone in the room sat still. NOBODY danced. Some wanted to watch. Others were too shy to dance because it was now a performance they feared interrupting.
At the end of the night, one girl said, "wow, it was like watching an entire night of performances! How fun!" "Really?" I asked. She tilted her head, and finally admitted, "Well, not really...but since I wasn't getting any dances anyway, it was better than doing nothing."
Christa was one of my most influential instructors during my first year. When I first started, you wouldn't say Christa was "famous." She was, however, inspiring, encouraging, beautiful, and down-to-earth. Good teachers show not only movements, but they also teach you work ethics. Christa taught me how to work on my own to improve. She is now somewhat well-known because their students improve DRASTICALLY. Christa mentored. I have now begun to do something similar; a reflection of them. I work via by exchange with those who are incredibly serious about tango (and/or have little income).
What do you think about the milonga phenomenon in Asia? And what do you feel about teachers who were profoundly influential, but not famous?
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Money and Tango
Tango shoes are expensive. Tango workshops are expensive. Tango lessons can be expensive, and festivals and travel/lodging are DEFINITELY expensive. So do only people who have money get to tango? In my opinion, this creates a big conflict. Teachers aren't willing to necessarily give out lessons for free, and no vendor is going to throw out free shoes.
What IS a viable option, however, is that if someone REALLY wants to dance enough, and cannot pay for it, they can always contact the organizers of milongas/practicas and offer an exchange to sit at the door and collect money, or even teachers, to exchange some work (postering/flyering/administrative tasks) for group, and even private classes. This happens ALL the time, and probably not only in Seattle. But only those who are motivated enough will contact the organizers. They're probably also happy to do exchanges for another skill. I'm currently doing an exchange to learn how to drive. I would also be happy to work with someone for free (or with an exchange) if they exhibhit extraordinary dedication and improvement. And for those who are connected with the UW, and are willing to work on reviving the Tango Club, I'd be happy to help out for free there, too.
For practicing: I practiced in my at-the-time tiny old kitchen, and occasionally the tiny, carpeted hallway of my tiny apartment. It is definitely nicer to practice in a bigger space, but I'm just noting that it CAN be done in small spaces. And it's no joke that I did ochos in the supermarket. (I also sat at the door at practicas a lot and did occasional flyering)
As for tango shoes: I've scored several pairs under $20 or even $10 at places like Goodwill and Crossroads. In fact, I like them even better than some of my more expensive tango shoes.
And here's a little secret about me: One of the main reasons why I started doing tango (even though I wasn't hooked yet at the time) was because the studio I was taking classes from offered half price discounts for students. THANK GOODNESS for that! On the other hand, after I became hooked, I began to shell out a lot more for tango. I rarely went out to eat, or went shopping, but I never though twice about paying for a milonga or lessons I really wanted to take. But what are your thoughts about travelling instructors and whether or not they would be willing to do some sort of exchange for workshops?
What IS a viable option, however, is that if someone REALLY wants to dance enough, and cannot pay for it, they can always contact the organizers of milongas/practicas and offer an exchange to sit at the door and collect money, or even teachers, to exchange some work (postering/flyering/administrative tasks) for group, and even private classes. This happens ALL the time, and probably not only in Seattle. But only those who are motivated enough will contact the organizers. They're probably also happy to do exchanges for another skill. I'm currently doing an exchange to learn how to drive. I would also be happy to work with someone for free (or with an exchange) if they exhibhit extraordinary dedication and improvement. And for those who are connected with the UW, and are willing to work on reviving the Tango Club, I'd be happy to help out for free there, too.
For practicing: I practiced in my at-the-time tiny old kitchen, and occasionally the tiny, carpeted hallway of my tiny apartment. It is definitely nicer to practice in a bigger space, but I'm just noting that it CAN be done in small spaces. And it's no joke that I did ochos in the supermarket. (I also sat at the door at practicas a lot and did occasional flyering)
As for tango shoes: I've scored several pairs under $20 or even $10 at places like Goodwill and Crossroads. In fact, I like them even better than some of my more expensive tango shoes.
And here's a little secret about me: One of the main reasons why I started doing tango (even though I wasn't hooked yet at the time) was because the studio I was taking classes from offered half price discounts for students. THANK GOODNESS for that! On the other hand, after I became hooked, I began to shell out a lot more for tango. I rarely went out to eat, or went shopping, but I never though twice about paying for a milonga or lessons I really wanted to take. But what are your thoughts about travelling instructors and whether or not they would be willing to do some sort of exchange for workshops?
Non-tango things that improve your tango
Here are a few things that I have found helped my tango:
1. A musical background--I sang in a school choir for a few years in a past life (and a love for tango music)
2. Ballet/modern/jazz
3. Contact improv
4. Gyrokinesis
5. Yoga
5. Plain working out at the gym
I'm sure any sort of body awareness exercise can help with balance and coordination. Here are some other good ones that I haven't really spent enough time on myself but may help your overall tango (I have probably heard about this from lots of other people).
-Pilates
-Barre Class
-Any form of martial arts that allows you to be grounded
-Any dance form that allows you to be comfortable with moving your body
Of course, you don't need ANY of this. You can just practice technique on your own, but I've found some differences in my tango as I increased my strength. Modern, ballet, and gyrokinesis are probably my top recommendations.
1. A musical background--I sang in a school choir for a few years in a past life (and a love for tango music)
2. Ballet/modern/jazz
3. Contact improv
4. Gyrokinesis
5. Yoga
5. Plain working out at the gym
I'm sure any sort of body awareness exercise can help with balance and coordination. Here are some other good ones that I haven't really spent enough time on myself but may help your overall tango (I have probably heard about this from lots of other people).
-Pilates
-Barre Class
-Any form of martial arts that allows you to be grounded
-Any dance form that allows you to be comfortable with moving your body
Of course, you don't need ANY of this. You can just practice technique on your own, but I've found some differences in my tango as I increased my strength. Modern, ballet, and gyrokinesis are probably my top recommendations.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Relationships and Tango
*Note: I started writing this post in January of 2012, and never got more than 2 lines until October 20th, 2013.**
Tango people are some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people I know.
So it becomes difficult to avoid falling for someone you love dancing with. Or even someone you don't dance much with, but see every other day for hours at a time.
When I started tango I was 18 years old. It's been exactly five years now, and my thoughts and opinions about the dance and people are constantly changing, growing, shrinking, and flipping out.
Tango romances are happening all over the world. But although love can be beautiful, romance within a tango community can be messy--very messy. I'm not talking about anyone in particular (or even about people that I know personally), but I've seen dozens of couples with the most extreme cases of tango drama; couples teaching together and breaking up. Couples who sacrifice love for art. Couples who sacrifice art for love. People who date their past lovers' friends. People who date their current lovers' friends. Friends who become enemies. You name it---it's there.
I took a private lesson from a very famous traveling couple once. They had been together romantically for years, and made such beautiful art! During the private, I asked them. "Do you fight??" To which the woman replied, "YES, all the time! But we need to take it off the floor; take a coffee break."
I asked another seemingly successful professional tango couple. The woman told me that anything that happens in tango, they can let go when they leave the floor. Tango is separate from their lives. But she had seen so much drama from other couples because they couldn't keep it separate.
Some of my friends are sad when their significant others don't want to dance with them, but want to dance with others. A decline in dance connection is another issue that arises often in tango relationships. "Why can't you dance with me like you dance with so-and-so?" seems to be the most common complaint.
A few dancers fall in love on the dance floor. For some it's just a 10-minute spinning affair. For others...they try out their connections off the floor, but in most of the cases I've seen, they fail. Juggling a relationship in tango is often like having two relationships.
And then there are those people who fall in love within tango, and then tango no longer becomes the center of their lives. Their partners are more important, and tango is "just a dance." These people are usually very happy in their relationships.
Exactly a year ago, I was jolted by something that whacked me so hard over the head that I had the wind knocked out of my gut. Tango doesn't need to be the center of my life. Other things can be more important. Friendship. Health. Family. Love. Even career. I'd neglected those things for years when my brain was screaming to be fed more tango. When tango took over my life, I had no time or care for anything or anyone else. I was proud, too, at the time, that tango was the center of my life. I look back now and there's nothing to be proud about. I was obsessed. Addicted. It was unhealthy.
There are people that are living happy, fulfilling lives.
With tango.
And without tango.
Tango people are some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people I know.
So it becomes difficult to avoid falling for someone you love dancing with. Or even someone you don't dance much with, but see every other day for hours at a time.
When I started tango I was 18 years old. It's been exactly five years now, and my thoughts and opinions about the dance and people are constantly changing, growing, shrinking, and flipping out.
Tango romances are happening all over the world. But although love can be beautiful, romance within a tango community can be messy--very messy. I'm not talking about anyone in particular (or even about people that I know personally), but I've seen dozens of couples with the most extreme cases of tango drama; couples teaching together and breaking up. Couples who sacrifice love for art. Couples who sacrifice art for love. People who date their past lovers' friends. People who date their current lovers' friends. Friends who become enemies. You name it---it's there.
I took a private lesson from a very famous traveling couple once. They had been together romantically for years, and made such beautiful art! During the private, I asked them. "Do you fight??" To which the woman replied, "YES, all the time! But we need to take it off the floor; take a coffee break."
I asked another seemingly successful professional tango couple. The woman told me that anything that happens in tango, they can let go when they leave the floor. Tango is separate from their lives. But she had seen so much drama from other couples because they couldn't keep it separate.
Some of my friends are sad when their significant others don't want to dance with them, but want to dance with others. A decline in dance connection is another issue that arises often in tango relationships. "Why can't you dance with me like you dance with so-and-so?" seems to be the most common complaint.
A few dancers fall in love on the dance floor. For some it's just a 10-minute spinning affair. For others...they try out their connections off the floor, but in most of the cases I've seen, they fail. Juggling a relationship in tango is often like having two relationships.
And then there are those people who fall in love within tango, and then tango no longer becomes the center of their lives. Their partners are more important, and tango is "just a dance." These people are usually very happy in their relationships.
Exactly a year ago, I was jolted by something that whacked me so hard over the head that I had the wind knocked out of my gut. Tango doesn't need to be the center of my life. Other things can be more important. Friendship. Health. Family. Love. Even career. I'd neglected those things for years when my brain was screaming to be fed more tango. When tango took over my life, I had no time or care for anything or anyone else. I was proud, too, at the time, that tango was the center of my life. I look back now and there's nothing to be proud about. I was obsessed. Addicted. It was unhealthy.
There are people that are living happy, fulfilling lives.
With tango.
And without tango.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Like A Drug, and Not Necessarily Good
"Oh how wonderful!" My non-tango friends used to say, "you've really found a passion, something you care about!"
I agreed for a while, but then I thought about it more carefully. I didn't mean to get addicted, or so drawn in. I remember regrets of not going to certain classes or milongas, but I barely thought twice about brushing some of my non-tango friends off just to make it to a practica from beginning 'til end.
I could not stop thinking about dancing, and obsessively read, youtubed, and practiced tango. Those really were some of my happiest days. But I didn't care about anything outside of tango. When I first got a boyfriend after starting tango, I would only spend alone time with him if there was no tango. If I finally decided to let one night slide, I'd lament about it for weeks, thinking about the tango that I'd missed out that night. Looking back now, this obsession was very unhealthy.
But it did make me a better dancer.
But the better I got, the more I had to search to find that initial "high" I had during my first year of dancing. I had to travel more and more often. My "tango high" went from every single moment, to once a week, to sporadic-sometimes. Maybe that's why I especially enjoy chatting with those who "caught the tango bug" or are "addicted." I see myself in them, and get excited again and remember the "good 'ole days".
So is life better with the tango? Yes and no. No, because of non-tango events and friends that I've come to sacrifice because of it. Yes, because in tango, I've met some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people, some of whom I'm lucky enough to call my friends. I hang out, chat, and have a blast with them---even outside of the contexts of tango! Tango is wonderful. But it's NOT ONLY a dance. It's a way of life.
For the dance, the sacrifices I made may not have been worth it.
But for the people I've met in tango, tango was worth every single second.
I agreed for a while, but then I thought about it more carefully. I didn't mean to get addicted, or so drawn in. I remember regrets of not going to certain classes or milongas, but I barely thought twice about brushing some of my non-tango friends off just to make it to a practica from beginning 'til end.
I could not stop thinking about dancing, and obsessively read, youtubed, and practiced tango. Those really were some of my happiest days. But I didn't care about anything outside of tango. When I first got a boyfriend after starting tango, I would only spend alone time with him if there was no tango. If I finally decided to let one night slide, I'd lament about it for weeks, thinking about the tango that I'd missed out that night. Looking back now, this obsession was very unhealthy.
But it did make me a better dancer.
But the better I got, the more I had to search to find that initial "high" I had during my first year of dancing. I had to travel more and more often. My "tango high" went from every single moment, to once a week, to sporadic-sometimes. Maybe that's why I especially enjoy chatting with those who "caught the tango bug" or are "addicted." I see myself in them, and get excited again and remember the "good 'ole days".
So is life better with the tango? Yes and no. No, because of non-tango events and friends that I've come to sacrifice because of it. Yes, because in tango, I've met some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people, some of whom I'm lucky enough to call my friends. I hang out, chat, and have a blast with them---even outside of the contexts of tango! Tango is wonderful. But it's NOT ONLY a dance. It's a way of life.
For the dance, the sacrifices I made may not have been worth it.
But for the people I've met in tango, tango was worth every single second.
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Importance of Culture (and Touch)
I've noticed that people who tend to have a good connection are people who have grown up with touch. They touch, and they like to be touched. They are comfortable with touch, and have little qualms hugging/kissing many different people.
I grew up in Taiwan. My family is not "touchy." I did not greet my parents every day with a hug and a kiss; perhaps only if I hadn't seen them for months. When we talked to each other, we didn't maintain contact (hands on elbows, shoulders, etc...). And with some girlfriends, I would hug, but it would only be a greeting for closer friends, and I hugged with my arms more than my body.
Thus, I was uncomfortable with touch, especially touching strangers. The first time one of my first tango instructors danced with me, she said, "do you do ballroom?" I shook my head. "Then why is your head doing that?" I had my entire back stiffened, and since I was learning tango on the body, I pulled back with my head as far as I possibly could. I was clearly uncomfortable. I turned away from my partner because I didn't want my bubble violated. And I had a huge ass bubble.
It took many, many hours of practice before I was comfortable with certain people, and many more hours before I became comfortable dancing with strangers, too. Thus I think a "yummy" embrace comes at least a little from something learned---the comfort level of touching and being touched and being close to someone. Many cultures, like Argentine or other latino cultures, are very touchy feely. They often can get over this first hump without a problem at all. Others learn to be comfortable because of their friend circles, or even dating experiences.
Many North Americans are very yummy. But many still feel very uncomfortable. In my travels, I've found that the level of dancing in, say, Barcelona, is nowhere near as high as Seattle, but the people are much more cuddly. It makes up for a lot. And Taiwan...Taiwan is difficult. Those who have been dancing for many years have developed a higher comfort level, but VERY FEW beginners had very comfortable embraces (whereas you can find really nice, comfy embraces with SOME beginners in America). At least for the men, many who'd studied outside of Taiwan were able to become quite cuddly. Men and women don't seem to be as physically friendly with each other in Taiwan as in North America and Europe! (Even with non-tango friends, I usually greet my American friends with giant bear hugs. In Europe, they kiss). Luckily, looking at the more seasoned dancers in Asia, this comfort level can be achieved. But it can take some getting used to.
Most of the "yummiest" people I dance with probably had that comfort level up there before they started tango, but those who aren't as cuddly can still learn. Try to envelop someone with your body when you hug them, and hold for a few extra seconds (do this even outside of a dance setting!). Tango is similar to a prolonged hug, so you'd better start getting used to the hugging. Otherwise you could feel like a rock. Some rocks are really technical and even musical, but they feel hard and not very cuddly. Some people might like cuddling rocks, but I like cuddling cuddlers :).
I grew up in Taiwan. My family is not "touchy." I did not greet my parents every day with a hug and a kiss; perhaps only if I hadn't seen them for months. When we talked to each other, we didn't maintain contact (hands on elbows, shoulders, etc...). And with some girlfriends, I would hug, but it would only be a greeting for closer friends, and I hugged with my arms more than my body.
Thus, I was uncomfortable with touch, especially touching strangers. The first time one of my first tango instructors danced with me, she said, "do you do ballroom?" I shook my head. "Then why is your head doing that?" I had my entire back stiffened, and since I was learning tango on the body, I pulled back with my head as far as I possibly could. I was clearly uncomfortable. I turned away from my partner because I didn't want my bubble violated. And I had a huge ass bubble.
It took many, many hours of practice before I was comfortable with certain people, and many more hours before I became comfortable dancing with strangers, too. Thus I think a "yummy" embrace comes at least a little from something learned---the comfort level of touching and being touched and being close to someone. Many cultures, like Argentine or other latino cultures, are very touchy feely. They often can get over this first hump without a problem at all. Others learn to be comfortable because of their friend circles, or even dating experiences.
Many North Americans are very yummy. But many still feel very uncomfortable. In my travels, I've found that the level of dancing in, say, Barcelona, is nowhere near as high as Seattle, but the people are much more cuddly. It makes up for a lot. And Taiwan...Taiwan is difficult. Those who have been dancing for many years have developed a higher comfort level, but VERY FEW beginners had very comfortable embraces (whereas you can find really nice, comfy embraces with SOME beginners in America). At least for the men, many who'd studied outside of Taiwan were able to become quite cuddly. Men and women don't seem to be as physically friendly with each other in Taiwan as in North America and Europe! (Even with non-tango friends, I usually greet my American friends with giant bear hugs. In Europe, they kiss). Luckily, looking at the more seasoned dancers in Asia, this comfort level can be achieved. But it can take some getting used to.
Most of the "yummiest" people I dance with probably had that comfort level up there before they started tango, but those who aren't as cuddly can still learn. Try to envelop someone with your body when you hug them, and hold for a few extra seconds (do this even outside of a dance setting!). Tango is similar to a prolonged hug, so you'd better start getting used to the hugging. Otherwise you could feel like a rock. Some rocks are really technical and even musical, but they feel hard and not very cuddly. Some people might like cuddling rocks, but I like cuddling cuddlers :).
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Surpassing your peers and teachers
It does happen.
If you work really, really hard, at some point in time, you may have invested more time and effort than some of your peers.
It is possible to surpass your peers, and sometimes even instructors, if you are continually growing and they have stopped growing at a certain point. It's simple mathematics. Someone who dances 15 hours a week for 1 year, will probably be better than someone who's been dancing for 1 hour a week for 5 years. At some point, you may have put more hours of work into your dancing than some of your peers have.
Of course you'll have to take into account efficiency and quality of instruction; constantly challenging yourself will allow you to improve more quickly than always staying in your comfort zone or practicing bad habits.
In a previous blog I mentioned that I am more likely, at least in my own community, to dance with a rapidly improving beginner dancer than an intermediate dancer who's been dancing the same way for many years. I am extremely curious about those caught the "tango bug" and I will pay more attention to the students who work the hardest rather than students who are the fastest at picking up the material.
Most of my students, in technique, were much better than I was in my first technique classes. People have so much potential, but it's those who actively find partners to practice with, seek out quality classes, do drills in their kitchen and supermarket, and dive head-first into tango seem to succeed the most in terms of improving.
If you work really, really hard, at some point in time, you may have invested more time and effort than some of your peers.
It is possible to surpass your peers, and sometimes even instructors, if you are continually growing and they have stopped growing at a certain point. It's simple mathematics. Someone who dances 15 hours a week for 1 year, will probably be better than someone who's been dancing for 1 hour a week for 5 years. At some point, you may have put more hours of work into your dancing than some of your peers have.
Of course you'll have to take into account efficiency and quality of instruction; constantly challenging yourself will allow you to improve more quickly than always staying in your comfort zone or practicing bad habits.
In a previous blog I mentioned that I am more likely, at least in my own community, to dance with a rapidly improving beginner dancer than an intermediate dancer who's been dancing the same way for many years. I am extremely curious about those caught the "tango bug" and I will pay more attention to the students who work the hardest rather than students who are the fastest at picking up the material.
Most of my students, in technique, were much better than I was in my first technique classes. People have so much potential, but it's those who actively find partners to practice with, seek out quality classes, do drills in their kitchen and supermarket, and dive head-first into tango seem to succeed the most in terms of improving.
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