Basics are not Just for Beginners: A taxonomy of tango classes

I recently took a series of workshops with Jonathan and Clarisa. The Friday classes were a “Seminar on the Basics” while the Saturday and Sunday classes covered the more advanced topic of changes of dynamics. Something I found interesting was, while the Saturday and Sunday classes were completely booked, noticeably less people attended Friday. Talking with some people about this, they mentioned they thought a class focusing on basics was meant for more beginner dancers, so they waited to take the advanced seminars. Is a basics class a beginner class, or are they different? What are the different types of classes and who are they for? And what does class level mean?

Here is a taxonomy I developed which I find useful for both understanding the different types of classes and for when I design my own classes. Classes can be broken down into topics, where a topic denotes a move, technique point, musical concept, drill, or really any distinct component. Topics can be simple or complex, with complex topics being more challenging to do successfully. Classes can cover a few simple topics, many simple topics, a few complex topics, or many complex topics.

A back sacada is more complex than an ocho because there are more potential points of failure with a back sacada than with leading or following an ocho. But this does not mean one is easier than the other. What separates simple from complex topics is less the challenge on the high end and more of the chance of failure on the low end. We can make even the simplest step very challenging by adding enough detail. In fact, perhaps the most impressive thing someone can do in tango is a simple movement with exquisite detail. The fidelity that each topic is covered is another dimension of classes. Walking may be as simple as putting one foot in front of the other (low fidelity). It can also be very high fidelity with posture, connection, muscles, joint mechanics, and timing. Thus, we have a taxonomy of eight potential types of classes, as shown in the table below.  

 Low FidelityHigh Fidelity
Few simple topicsBeginner ClassFundamentals Class
Many simple topicsIntermediate ClassX
Few complex topicsXAdvanced Class
Many complex topicsMaster ClassX

Beginner classes cover the basics, going over a few simple topics in light detail to give new dancers a chance for success. Fundamentals classes similarly covers basics but do so in high fidelity. Beginner classes are not fundamentals classes and fundamentals are not just for beginners. Unfortunately, tango commonly combines beginner and fundamentals classes, leading to new dancers feeling overwhelmed and more experienced dancers having critical gaps in their knowledge base.

Intermediate classes teach how to string sequences together and layer topics such as navigation and musicality to the movements. The challenge comes not from the individual steps or details, more from the combination of factors. Advanced classes actually cover less topics but cover more difficult topics in more detail. Master classes combine complex topics to show new possibilities, highlight areas for improvement, and help break out of old patterns. The different classes serve different purposes, and the level of a class does not coincide with the level of dancer that should take the class. Someone dancing for less than a year can get a lot of benefit from an intermediate or advanced class, and fundamentals classes are valuable at all stages of development.

So, what do the big X marks in the table represent? In the movie The Prince’s Bride, the protagonist is imprisoned in ‘The Pit of Despair’, a torture chamber where his lifeforce is slowly sucked away. This seems a rather fitting description of a bad tango class. The three X’s mark tango class pits of despair to be avoided at all cost.

We have two guides which indicate where the pits of despair lie. The first is the ratio of walking to talking. Take the class time spent doing divided by the class time where the teacher is talking. If the walking-to-talking ratio is below one, there is a good chance the class is falling into a pit of despair. The second guide is the success ratio, which is the number of times students succeed divided by the number of times they. A low success ratio leads to frustration and scares students away from the topic.    

Classes are like maps in that there is a limited amount of information which can be presented. You can’t show a large area in detail on a map; nor can you teach many topics in high fidelity. If you try, then you end up talking more than doing and you end up torturing more than teaching. Complex topics also need sufficient detail for a decent success ratio. You can gloss over a lot of the nuances of a sidestep and still have beginner dancers successfully lead and follow one. Gloss over the details while teaching leader ganchos and your students are in for a different experience. Master classes can get away with teaching complex topics in low fidelity because they assume the students already have some level of mastery of the individual elements.

Something interesting about the Jonathan and Clarissa workshops was that the Friday class on the basics ended up being the most useful. As we can now see, they were not beginner classes, but fundamentals classes, which laid the structure for the rest of the weekend.

Bricks and Branches: Considering our Analogies of Learning

Analogies structure how we understand the world, mapping what we know onto what we want to discover. An apt analogy guides our path forward and highlights pitfalls to avoid, while an inappropriate analogy leaves us lost. What analogies do we use to conceptualize learning? And are they apt or do they mislead us?

We liken learning to constructing a skyscraper. Teachers give us “a solid foundation” and we “build from the ground up.” We discuss “levels” of difficulty and “levels” of proficiency. While the skyscraper analogy is common, it is inappropriate. My thesis is that a more apt analogy is that our learning and development can be best compared with how a tree grows.

Skyscraper construction starts at the foundation and builds upwards. The foundation needs to be rock solid before adding on top of it or the whole structure will be unstable. A flaw in one level requires everything above to be torn down and rebuilt. Once a level is built, you move on to the next floor. Levels also have a hierarchy, with each new floor considered more prestigious than the ones below it.

The skyscraper analogy to learning implies movements and concepts are either 1) at our current level, 2) above us (too hard), or 3) below us (too easy). Under the skyscraper analogy, if a student wants to learn a back sacada but doesn’t have a perfect pivot, then we tell them they need to wait until they have a more solid foundation. Once we can do boleos and ganchos, then a class on walking and ochos is clearly too low of a level for us. When we take a private and the instructor points out a flaw in our technique, then we are devastated because we have to tear everything down and start from square one. Viewing learning like constructing a building means we don’t practice concepts and movements that are at a level we think is above us, and we don’t revisit concepts and movements that are below us.  

Contrast this with how a tree grows. A small seed that sprouts into a sapling, spreading its roots, trunk, branches, and leaves. Growth occurs simultaneously downwards, outwards, and upwards. Even the smallest sapling has leaves reaching towards the sun, and even the largest oak continues growing roots. Each year the trunk adds a new ring, and every part of the tree is equally important to its health and growth.

Embracing the tree analogy guides us in a different direction to how we approach learning. Novel and complex movements feed our creativity while also motivating us to continue growing our roots and trunk (our fundamentals). We think of lessons less in terms of levels and more in terms of what new tree ring it adds to our dance. Imperfections are not a cause to tear down and restart, but instead signal for new branches that we can begin developing. Instead of avoiding feedback and what it tells us about our level, we seek information because it is the nutrients that allow our flowers to blossom. The learning process is no longer an imposing inanimate object but is instead an organic and ever-growing living thing.

Pollock’s Paradas: Abstraction as a means to lead more by leading less

I overheard a debate on leading quick side-steps:

“You lead them by rising up on your toes and pick your heels off the floor.” Said one

“I say It’s all about lifting your partner with your embrace.” Replied another

“No no no! It’s about rocking side to side to lead the weight changes!” Interjected a third

How to communicate with our partner in tango (as in life) is often a mystery. We look for clues and come up with all sorts of hypotheses. “Maybe I use my hand like a rudder on their back to lead pivots?” Or “let me try signaling the direction by leaning—tilt forwards to walk forward, tilt back to walk backwards.” Our teachers give us clues, and eventually we construct a theory of how the movements in our body signal leads to our partner. Good leaders are considered the ones who have clearer, subtler, and more comfortable signals.

The most common question asked in any tango class is “What do I do to lead this step?” This is a question of what the mechanics of communication are. Let us call the approach of translating body movements into leads the mechanical approach to leading. I do X, so you do Y. I turn my chest, so you pivot. I push the floor, so you step backwards. I place my leg here, so you do the gancho. But is this the correct approach? I want to share a concept I believe opens many new possibilities for communication and results in a calmer, clearer, more creative, and more comfortable lead.

The concept is what I call the abstract approach to leading. To ‘abstract’ something is to distill its essence by removing certain details to clarify other parts. We distill our lead to the essence of what clearly conveys the information while removing unnecessary details. We abstract our communication from our movement mechanics so that we can separate the lead from our own movement.

Say you want to lead three quick side-steps to catch a piano fill in the music (to take a specific example so that we can abstract concretely). Leading mechanically requires you to communicate the following: small side, collect, change weight, small side, collect, change weight, small side, pause. That is an awful lot to get across, especially in a short amount of time. No wonder there is so much confusion around how to communicate such movements. Instead of leading each movement, you can take a more abstract approach. Maybe lead the concept ‘quick sidesteps’ instead of leading each movement. Or you can lead the direction and instrument—piano, side. This communicates the same concept more succinctly.

By getting at the essence of communication, we can lead complex movements and concepts with simple movements in our own body. Using our arms to manipulate our partner into positions is replaced with transmitting an image of the effect. Asking for a larger step or bigger boleo by making a big movement in our own body to send more force into our partner is replaced with calmly conveying our interest in a change in intensity. When we abstract our lead, we reduce the amount of information that needs to be conveyed. The pivots, collections, and steps of the turn are replaced with a simple direction (turning clockwise or counterclockwise). Leading the timing of each step is replaced with signaling an instrument for the phrase. There is only so much bandwidth with which to communicate, so conveying the same information more succinctly allows us to communicate more.

A great way to practice leading abstractly is to lead the turn (forward, side, back, side, forward) and changes of direction without using your arms. You signal the direction and trust your partner to take care of the specifics of the timing, steps, pivots, and collections. The direction to go is the essence of what your partner needs. They spend a lot of time practicing their turn, so trying to lead each step tends to only get in their way. Pay special note of whether you move your arms when you change direction with a front or back ocho. Most people do, but it is largely unnecessary. Here you see the difference between leading mechanically and leading abstractly. With the former you move your partner with your arms to lead the pivot; with the latter, you ask for a change in direction and trust your partner to pivot.

Something else to practice is to see if you can convey images and concepts instead of steps. Instead of trying to figure out what in your body you need to do to lead a boleo, visualize what a nice boleo would look like and feel like. See the image as if you were a third person looking at your partnership from the outside. Many people find that once you have a clear image of what you are going for, then the information gets conveyed to their partner as if by magic. When our mind is clear, our body somehow knows how to efficiently convey information and we do not need nearly as much movement as we think we do to communicate clearly. You can also try conveying a musical phrase or instrument. A simple exercise is to be in an embrace and try conveying an instrument without taking any steps. Once your partner thinks they know which instrument you chose, they say it verbally. Then switch and see if you can feel which instrument they choose. The same game can be played for things like size of step, linear versus circular, energy, and emotions. We can convey a lot more than just steps through the embrace, and communicating with these more abstract concepts often makes the movements much easier to lead.    While I have discussed abstraction from the perspective of leading, the same concept applies to following. Moving our partner is backleading, but communicating ideas and intentions is co-creating. Communicating more abstractly also allows multiple ways to communicate the same ideas. This means the communication can change from partner to partner and can even change within the song. Leading abstractly can free us to do and experience more in the dance. Instead of trying to lead every detail, we just lead what is necessary for our partner to understand. We distill our lead to what is really needed to convey information instead of what is needed to move our partner. This allows space to feel more, observe more, and allows us have a true conversation with our partner.                                     

Mirror Images

We signal our role through the embrace we take,

Leader’s left hand meets follower’s right.

Asymmetry, when partners face, gives explicit display to implicit norms.

The rules of our role go unnoticed and things unnoticed go unquestioned.   

Mirrors on the wall to show us how we look,

A decoration seldom appreciated by social dancers.

But mirrors don’t just show who we are; they reveal who we could be.

We see the same moves, the same you, but with an important change.

The embrace flips as though the roles were switched.

We think the way things are is the way things should be.

But this switch happens naturally,

An image of life’s many possibilities.

Building Better Learning Environments

During a conversation with some fellow dancers, my friend Mitra Martin said something which I believe gets at the heart of the learning and teaching process. She said, “The job of a teacher is not to teach, but to create an environment where learning occurs.” Passing along information through instruction is a vital part of learning, but it is only one part of the broader learning environment. Even the best instruction will fall on deaf ears if the learning environment does not allow knowledge to be translated into skills. How do we create effective learning environments in tango?

We can look to other dance forms for inspiration. When I first started dancing, I was fortunate to try many different dance styles and see how each created the learning environments. At one end of the spectrum lies ballet classes, which leverage uniformity to promote learning. Everyone in class does the same movements, and many of the exercises repeat from class to class. This allows everyone to apply the same feedback given by the instructor, and information can be layered across classes to build proficiency. At the opposite end of the spectrum is breakdancing, which leverages individuality. Everyone discovers their unique style and then can share their discoveries with each other and ask for feedback, fostering a culture of collaboration. Dance forms such as ballroom, salsa, or modern dance also have their own approaches to creating learning environments. Each approach has its benefits and requirements to be effective.

At its best, the tango approach to learning combines positive aspects from several different styles. We have classes and seminars to provide a structured progression like ballet classes but can also have sharing and discussion during prácticas like in breakdancing. We have lessons and partner practice like in ballroom, along with the community support and learning like in other social dances. Of course, this is tango at its best. Unfortunately, it is too often the case that the tango learning environment ends up being an ineffective combination of seminars without structure, prácticas without practice, and community without communication.

Consider the pre-milonga class. The community spends good money on good instructors, but the instructors come in without knowledge about the number and level of students, and the students have no control over the difficulty of the class. Instructors often change week to week, meaning the teaching approach can vary dramatically, the feedback can be contradictory, and errors of understanding or retention go uncorrected. If that were not enough, the students do not even have time to practice the material they learn before going directly into the milonga. Festival classes often face these same challenges but also have the added factors of larger classes and sleep deprivation.

Organizers are balancing many aspects of tango that, such as making an event social, showcasing art and artistry, creating an event people come to, and making an event which is profitable and sustainable. It is little wonder that the learning environment occasionally gets neglected. We can’t put the full burden of creating effective learning environments on the organizers and instructors. It is the responsibility of the entire community to create and maintain healthy learning environments.

So, what are some steps a community can take to create better learning environments? It helps to first realize that there are actually multiple spaces that need to be created and coordinated to create an effective learning environment. Learning progresses fastest when there is a good balance between learning, practicing, and doing.[1] In general, practice spaces get the least attention. The simple addition of open floor times and guided prácticas can make a big difference by providing a space for actual practice to occur. At a festival, for example, replacing one of the Sunday class slots with a guided practice would probably be the most valuable use of the teachers’ and participants’ time and energy, because it would give everyone the chance to try out all the new material they have learned over the weekend and correct mistakes while they are still fresh. If, as a community, we value open floor space and guided practices and are willing to pay for them instead of just paying for the flashy classes and workshops, then I am sure organizers would be more than willing to provide such spaces. The different spaces do not need to be part of the same event or held at the same time. A big, generally missed, opportunity for learning comes after a community hosts a workshop or festival. If the community organizes review time in the subsequent weeks for participants to go over, practice, and discuss what they learned, maybe even with the guidance of local instructors, then it can substantially increase the level of retention and understanding.  It is the maestros who hold the workshop, but it is the full community that holdsds together the structures that allow learning from the workshop to occur.

Another important factor to remember is that the needs of a novice are different from the needs of an advanced dancer.[2] Ideally, different environments can be created to address the needs of dancers at different levels. Novice dancers learn well from structured, progressive classes from a consistent instructor whereas intermediate dancers often benefit from being exposed to many different concepts, teachers, and styles. The needs again shift when students transition to an advanced level where they require more mentorship along with goals to continue developing their skills. Opportunities to teach (or assist teaching) and perform are essential for advanced dancers to support their continued growth. At all levels, it is helpful to have a cohort of fellow dancers with whom to train and collaborate.

A final consideration is that not all spaces need to be learning spaces. We sometimes jam learning into places where it would be better to simply focus on connection and enjoyment. Instead of holding a pre-milonga class just because “it is what has always been done,” a community could instead have a pre-milonga cocktail hour to create a space for people to connect socially before the dancing begins.[3] Clear distinctions between learning spaces and enjoyment spaces allow for more focus when it is time to learn, and more fun when it is time to enjoy.


[1] You can read more of my thoughts on the topic of the various types of spaces here: https://tangotopics.org/prepare-your-tango-kitchen/

[2] You can read more of my thoughts on how training needs vary with level here: https://tangotopics.org/teacher-trainer-mentor/

[3] Shoutout to the organizers have started doing creative events such as having a potluck, or wine and cheese tasting before the milonga.  

Asking Someone to Dance: Reflections on human interaction

To those who have never asked a stranger to dance, the process may appear to be a simple matter of approaching with sufficient confidence to express your desire and with sufficient humility to accept a no should that be their response. But social dancers know this seeming simplicity hides a deep undercurrent of nuance. Tango, in particular, has many explicit and implicit customs for what is considered a proper way to ask. The purpose these customs serve is worthy of consideration, if for no other purpose than for dancers to better understand what is appropriate. But asking someone to dance also provides an opportunity to examine a fundamental aspect of human interaction. Like how each piece of a fractal tells us about the larger shape, understanding the complexities of asking someone to dance provides insights into broader human interactions. When we ask someone to dance, we are expressing our interest in an interaction that may or may not be desirable for the other person. The same general framework holds for interactions such as asking someone for their time and attention, asking to engage in a conversation, asking for help and support, for a date, for a kiss, for intimacy.

If you ask someone to dance and they accept, then you could both enjoy a positive interaction. The challenge is that we do not know what other people are thinking or feeling. There is the possibility that you ask them to dance but they would prefer not to dance with you. In statistics, this is called a “false positive” or an “error of commission.” You have put the other person in the difficult position of either feeling bad about saying no or saying yes but wishing they said no. You can of course avoid this discomfort by not asking them to dance. But then you run the risk of you both missing out on a positive experience. This is sometimes called a “false negative” or an “error of omission.”

Many social norms are there to balance the competing errors of omission and commission. You want to reduce the times you ask someone who would prefer not to be asked and also reduce the times you don’t ask someone who would have wanted to dance with you. The process of eye contact and cabeceo used in tango is a way to reduce the chance of asking someone to dance who is not interested. Both parties need to make eye contact for an ask to occur, so unwanted asks can be reduced by avoiding eye contact. The tradeoff is that it can increase the number of positive interactions that do not occur. This tradeoff between unwanted dances and missed dances can be reduced but never avoided. I have at times spent months thinking someone did not want to dance with me only to find out later that we were merely unlucky enough to not look at each other at the same time.

Once we understand what the social norms are there for, we can adjust them to the situation. For example, how far away should we stand when trying to cabeseo? My belief is that the answer depends on who you are asking to dance. The farther away you are, the less pressure they feel to say yes; the closer you are, the less likely they are to miss you. If you are asking someone new, then it is often preferable to cabeceo a bit further away. Better to miss a dance or two than to pressure someone into a dance that they later resent. Meanwhile, if you are asking someone with whom you have a history of nice dances, then you may use a more direct cabeceo. My partner and I will often directly ask each other whether we want to dance because we know we like dancing with each other and we both feel comfortable saying no if we are tired or looking to dance with someone else. Because we are not worried about causing negative experiences, we can ask in a way that avoids missed opportunities.

When asking someone for something, a dance or otherwise, it is not enough to simply be willing to accept a no. Forcing someone to say no can still be forcing them to do something they would have preferred not to do. This is the art of asking. Before asking, you want to assess whether the other person has indicated they want to be asked. If they look excited to dance, if you have had an enjoyable dance before, if you saw them looking your way earlier, or if they are currently looking your way are all positive indicators. If the music starts and they seem to be in deep conversation, or if they are looking down or looking away then you may want to wait. We recently had a student tell us about how someone asked them to dance by tapping our student’s shoulder and then offering their hand. Please don’t be that person, have confide. The approach that I try to take is one of considerate confidence. Have confidence that people want to dance with you and that it is ok to ask. People came to dance, and you are offering a positive opportunity. But also, be considerate and caring about who you ask and how you ask.

So, what if you ask and they say no? Be it ego or wounded pride, or just sadness from missing out on dancing with the person who said no, it doesn’t feel very good. Yes, it is just a dance, but it still sucks. It is ok to admit that to yourself. You may even feel some initial confusion or resentment towards the other person. This is normal. But here is the thing to remember and to always keep in mind. The other person gave you an invaluable gift by sharing their honest preferences with you. It takes a lot of courage to say no, to express our preferences honestly, and we want to be the kind of person who supports that courage. The psychologist and author Marshal Rosenberg said that “The main difference between a request and a demand is not how nicely we say it, but how we treat people when they don’t do what we want.” Don’t turn your request into a demand by punishing the other person for saying no. They don’t need to say yes, they don’t need to give an explanation, and you do need to have care and kindness towards them. Asking someone to dance can be valuable training in this respect. Are you someone who can take rejection with grace, keeping kindness towards the person who declined you, or are you are someone who cannot accept or tries to punish someone for their honesty when their honesty does not conform to your desires? The choice is yours.

There is a final aspect worth mentioning. So far, we have discussed navigating uncertainty regarding the other person’s preferences. But we may also consider uncertainty regarding our own preferences. We may ask someone only to wish we hadn’t, and we may skip over someone because we didn’t know that we would have enjoyed dancing with them. Something to always remember. If you ask someone to dance, take care of them even if you end up not enjoying dancing with them. They took a chance on you by agreeing to be in your embrace and put their trust into your care.[1] If you find yourself often in the situation of dancing with people you wish you hadn’t, then maybe consider why you are asking the people you are asking? If you ask because you feel pressured to do so, or because you feel obligated, or you ask because of what they are and not who they are, the more likely you are to be disappointed. The more you ask from a place of honesty and curiosity, the more likely you are to have a magical experience. One last thing to keep in mind is that we often fear the unknown, so we tend to ask the people we already know who we already know will say yes. But some of the most joyous dances are with someone new. Take the chance to ask someone you may not initially think to ask.


[1] We should feel empowered to protect ourselves from chance of injury or inappropriate behavior, which do take precedent over concerns of disappointing the other person. 

Gru’s Posture Cue: A tip for better posture

We all want to maintain a “good posture” while dancing. But what does “good posture” mean? At its best, posture is an invaluable tool used to enhance the experience of the dance, while it often becomes simply a mechanism to enhance stress, self-criticism, and judgement. There is so much confusion and contradictory information regarding alignment that we may not even know good posture when we see it. And even when we do have an idea of what we want, it is often difficult to know what changes we need to make, or what feelings tell us when we are in or out of alignment. Here is a cue that I have found helpful for my own posture, and hopefully will be similarly useful for your own posture quest.

First a little anatomy. The diaphragm is a big dome-shaped muscle that attaches to the bottom of your rib cage and allows you to breathe. The pelvic floor is a more-or-less bowl-shaped series of muscles that connect between your tailbone and pubic bone. As shown in the figure below (correct posture on the far left), we want to have the dome of the diaphragm directly opposite the bowl of the pelvic floor.[1] Aligning the diaphragm and pelvic floor makes it easier to breath, find balance, and transmit force through our body.

Figure 1 Relations of the diaphragm and pelvic floor with the far left being the optimal.

When the diaphragm lines up with the pelvic floor, it creates a pill shape in the middle of your body. For me, this shape looks an awful lot like a minion. My posture cue for you is to make your minion and keep your minion. We make our minion by aligning the pelvic floor and diaphragm, and we avoid mashing our minion by keeping this alignment as we dance.

Here is something to help you make and keep your minion. When you breathe in, your diaphragm contracts and moves downwards towards the abdomen. With proper alignment, your pelvic floor lowers along with the diaphragm to make space. Your diaphragm and pelvic floor work like a piston, moving down and up with each breath. The feeling when you are in alignment is as if you breath into your hips. Of course, the air stays in your lungs, so what you are really feeling is your guts sliding down into the space created by your pelvic floor. But “breathing into your hips” is a good description of the sensation of breathing with correct alignment.

Making your minion

The sensation of your breath goes into whichever body part is directly opposite your diaphragm, so you may feel the breath in your belly, side, upper back, or lower back depending on how you are out of alignment. You can try this yourself, experimenting with different posture positions and noticing where you feel the breath go. The feeling of our breath can tell us when we are in alignment (the breath goes into our hips) and can tell us how we are out of alignment (depending on where else the breath goes).

Next time you are working on your posture, try aligning your diaphragm and pelvic floor—making and keeping your minion—and try sensing where in your body your breath goes.  


[1] The figure is from the article “Breathing IS NOT Bracing” by Chris Duffin, which can be found here https://www.elitefts.com/education/breathing-is-not-bracing/ It is also where I first read of the concept of aligning the diaphragm with the pelvic floor.

Create a sensory-rich environment for your practice

When I discovered dance in college, I got hooked. And when I say hooked, I mean the training five different styles at the same time, skipping class to go practice, and breaking into the gym after hours to train a bit more at night kind of hooked. What I lacked in knowledge and experience, I tried to make up for in volume. I figured that the more time I put in, the better I would get. While my heart was willing to keep up this level of commitment, my knee apparently was not. After surgery to stitch back together my meniscus, I spent several weeks on crutches and several months doing physical therapy. As unpleasant as the injury was, the process of recovery gave me time to rethink how my body works and started me on a journey of reevaluating how I practice and train. The question I kept asking myself was “How should I practice so that I can continue to progress without injury?” I want to share a concept I learned along this journey and show some ways in which it can help you learn tango faster with better technique and less chance of injury.

We emphasize the “physical” part of physical activities, but really it is the brain we are training. We practice a skill to ‘build muscle memory’, but muscles don’t keep memories. We go to the gym to ‘build our body’, but strength comes as much from better firing of our neurons as it does from muscle mass. We talk about ‘stretching our legs’, but flexibility comes from our brain feeling more comfortable in end-range positions, so practicing your splits is really stretching your mind. Practice is primarily about providing a stimulus to our brain to create a desired adaptation.

When it comes to movement, our brain has its work cut out for it. It must select a pattern of movement, and then coordinate our muscles to fire with the correct sequence and intensity, while at the same time processing a barrage of internal and external sensations to determine any needed course corrections. As if this were not enough, our brain must determine where our body is in space and how it is moving. And it has to know which sensations are important and interpret what these sensation mean. Training our brain means practicing to: (1) remember more efficient and effective movement patterns and forget less efficient movement patterns, (2) improve timing and coordination of movement patterns, and (3) improve proprioception and reaction.

Junk volume is often worse than having never practiced at all, because you will have to unlearn the incorrect pattern to progress. Instead of practicing an incorrect movement a thousand times, practice the correct pattern ten times. Of course, we need to learn what correct movement pattens are, and we obviously can’t perform with the sophistication of a professional dancer when we are just starting out. So how do we spend less time repeating inefficient movements and spend more time learning more efficient movements? This is where creating what Dr Aaron Horschig calls a “sensory-rich environment”[1] comes into play.

A sensory-rich environment is when we provide a clear sensation to our brain of when it is on the right track or off-track. Our brain needs feedback to understand whether it is doing a movement correctly. This feedback can come from an instructor, but it can also come from well-placed props or well-chosen exercises.

So how can we apply the concept of creating a sensory-rich environment to our tango? Identify a movement you want to work on and then determine what constitutes the “correct” or “effective” pattern you want to aim for. It can be helpful to identify which body parts you want to move and which you want to remain stable. Now, find a prop or signal that will give you feedback when you are doing the movement correctly or incorrectly. Elastic bands, mirrors, and a helpful partner are especially useful here. After you practice with the prop to get feedback on what the correct movement feels like, try the movement without the prop to test your newfound awareness. Here are a few examples that I have found especially useful for myself and our students.   

A common mistake when twisting (such as in ochos or with leading the turn) is to move our arms independent from each other. My partner Jackie likes to call this “the Bowflex,” where the distance between the elbows increases. To fix this, put an elastic band around your elbows and practice your twist (you can practice solo or with a partner in open embrace). The band lets you feel exactly when you want to move your arms apart and allows you to quickly eliminate this mistake from your dancing.

A band between your arms cues you to move your arms together.

Another common mistake when pivoting is to let the hips twist along with the upper body. In tango, we want to be able to move our upper body while maintaining still hips. The challenge is that it can be hard to feel when our hips are moving. Place the back of a chair so that it is contacting the side of your hip and then practice rotating the upper body (a shelf or door handle can work as well). If you move your hips along with your upper body, then you immediately feel it in the change of contact with the chair.

We sometimes forget to push from the standing leg when walking backwards. This can lead to our lower back arching and to feeling heavy to our partner. To fix this, have a partner hold a band around your lower back as you step backwards. This provides two fixes in one: driving against the band teaches you to push with your standing leg and the sensation of the band cues you to not arch the lower back.

A chair helps you feel your hips.

Crossing our feet can be tricky to do well. That is because there are many ways to cross our feet, but not all of them are equally elegant. One way is to move our foot at the ankle, which allows us to cross but sickles our foot. Another way is to turn at the hips to make space, which works but often results in excessive movement. The preferred way to cross is to use your adductors (inner thigh muscles) to pull your leg across and then allow your foot to slot into the cross. The challenge is that it can be difficult to feel your adductors and feel the proper movement. To solve this, put a band on the inside of the leg you are going to cross and have a partner hold either end (or tie to something stable). The band gives you something to pull against, which teaches you to activate your adductors. Pull straight against the band and keep your whole foot on the floor. You can practice crossing both in front and in back in this way. In no time at all you will feel how to do a clean, compact cross.

These are but a few examples. Now that you know the principles, you can create your own sensory-rich environment. Focus on training your brain, and injury-free progress will follow.

The various ways to cross. Crossing using the adductors is generally considered correct. Pulling against a band cues you to use your adductors and helps you find the correct cross position.

[1] https://youtu.be/TRmayQcweUc?t=410

Journey to the Land of Tango

You want to journey to the land of tango, my son?
A land full of riches, with connection aplenty.
Something I must warn you about these travels, my son.
The passage is perilous, the dangers are many.
These waters you pass through house monsters, my son.
Keep a sharp eye and learn to act swiftly.
If you decide to embark on this journey, my son.
Then pay close attention and heed these words carefully.


Beware the octopus, lurking in the depths.
It knows but one move, which consists of eight steps.
Lanes and timing, such things it cares not.
Stay vigilant or you will surely get caught.
The pause that you feel, merely calm before the storm.
It prepares to strike backwards; all must be warned.

Throughout these waters, starfish move as they please.
Fedoras and fishnets, performing tango trapeze.
Looks like five legs fly through the air.
Dips, flips, and poses—all kinds of flair.
At a distance a starfish is harmless enough.
But don’t get to close or you may be out of luck.


Waves are most perilous when close to the rocks.
Waves move ever forwards, and rocks always stop.
Trapped between the two, many explorers are slain.
Your only escape is the treacherous inner lane.  


The Sirens’ call you sometimes will hear.
“Want to dance this tanda?” they sing in your ear.
An outstretched hand, avoid at all costs.
Snarled in their trap, many seamen are lost.
Your heart and your kindness will tell you to go,
but your arm and your back will soon scream “Oh no!”


Choose wisely, my son, your partner in arms.
A fellow navigator to guide through the storms.
Good companions on this journey are also a must.
Those selfless with space, those you can trust.
Your fellowship of the ronda, in front and in back.
They provide you with peace and stave off attack.
Follow these lessons, hard worn and hard won.
And you’ll make it to the land of tango, my son.     

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