Tango Philosophy

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.

By sericson0, ago

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.

By sericson0, ago

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.                                     

By sericson0, ago

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.

By sericson0, ago

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.  

By sericson0, ago

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. 

By sericson0, ago

Teacher, Trainer, Mentor

What should we look for in an instructor? And as an instructor, what do we need to provide our students to support their growth? Categorizing instruction into the three roles of teacher, trainer, and mentor is useful for answering these questions. A teacher conveys information, getting the student to understand something they did not know before. A trainer helps get information into the student’s body, getting the student to be able to do something they could not do before. And a mentor shows the student a path forward and supports their feelings and emotions along their journey.

A teacher is responsible for the knowledge component of learning. Teachers give us information on what to do and how to do it. Go to a class and most of your interaction with the instructor will be them teaching you information. The mark of a good teacher is that their students have a good mental model of what we need to do to become a better dancer. Learning consists of both knowing what to do and being able to do it. Teachers deal with the knowledge component and are therefore necessary but not sufficient for learning.

A Trainer helps convert knowledge in our head into understanding in our whole body. Training tends to involve less talking and more doing, using a few well-designed drills and well-chosen words to build competency. As a trainer, it is better to say one thing a hundred times than to say a hundred things once, and sometimes the best is to get the point across without saying anything at all. A trainer’s job is to boil down the information given by the teacher into small packets that the student can focus on. The teacher shows the student what they are trying to do, the trainer gives them feedback on when they need to put their focus to achieve this and when they are progressing in the right direction.

A Mentor plays a more infrequent but equally vital role in a student’s development. The job of a mentor is to ensure the components for growth are in place and remove barriers to learning. While the teacher and trainer take care of the student’s day to day growth, a mentor gives broader guidance and encouragement throughout their journey. Broadly speaking, trainers focus on what to do in the next minute, teachers focus on what to do in the next week, and mentors focus on what to do in the next year. Suggesting teachers to study with, guidance on how to structure practice, and pointing the student in the right direction of music to listen to and performers to watch all fall under mentoring.

Mentors help the student process their feelings and emotions; something especially important for newer dancers. Experienced dancers, inoculated to the social dance experience, can easily forget the raw emotions that come with your first dance event. Finding the courage to ask someone to dance. Processing when your cabeceo is not returned. Understanding your emotions when you are not asked to dance for several tandas or when you are thanked after one song. Having support when someone acts inappropriately at the milonga. Strategies for having a positive experience at a festival or marathon. Navigating partner dynamics. Finding a healthy balance between the desire to dance and the needs of other aspects of life. All these moments are the job of a mentor to help the student navigate. Having support during these moments makes the difference between the student becoming a lifelong dancer where tango enriches their life, and the student experiencing emotional damage and finding another hobby.

The three roles of teacher, trainer, and mentor can be played by different people, but can also be played by the same person. As a student, it is helpful to know what role we are looking for in an instructor at a given time, and as an instructor it is useful to know what role will be most helpful to the student in each moment. I believe that knowing which role to play is one of the most important skills of an instructor, more important even than knowing what information to share or how to structure a class.

Say we are working with a student on their forward walk. We may start in teacher mode, discussing and demonstrating the physics concept of equal and opposite reaction to explain how, to go forward, we use our standing leg to push the floor backwards. We summarize with the phrase “drive the floor backwards to step forward.” Once the student has a clear path forward then we go into trainer mode and practice the concept, using the cue ‘drive’ to connect with this concept. We have the student practice with several different movements, giving short corrections and words of encouragement. At the end of practice, we may switch into mentor mode and show the student how to approach filming themselves so that they can practice their walk on their own. The power of separating roles is that it provides clear guidance on the amount and type of information to provide. We can say a single word such as ‘drive’ while the student is in motion, whereas it would make little sense to try and explain Newtonian physics in the middle of a movement. Similarly, repeating a single word would be of little help without the previously teaching what that word refers to.      

The instructor categories help us understand how the needs of the student change as they progress. Beginner students primarily need mentors to process their new experiences, which is why what makes a good beginner instructor is often different from what makes a good instructor for intermediate or advanced dancers. As the student grows, teaching and training take center stage. Advanced dancers often require less teaching and more training. Advanced dancers also need more mentoring to help them choose where to focus their attention.

Relative needs of each category by dancer level.

Separating the different roles helps us avoid some common instructor pitfalls. One common pitfall as a teacher is to expect immediate change in our students. Teaching is like planting seeds, where the flowers of understanding may blossom weeks or months after the learning is planted. When inevitably information does not produce immediate change, we give more information and more information, overloading our students and hindering their progress. Worse, we may blame our students, thinking that they are lazy or “they just don’t get it.” Once we separate teacher from trainer, and mentor, we allow for separation from the information we give as a teacher and the progress that comes through training. We also allow separation from the information and the broader structure that enables learning.

By sericson0, ago

Tango Interior Design

Milonga ready furniture signals you are in a tango home. Dining tables that fold into the wall, easily movable couches, coffee tables on sliders. Minimalism taken to an extreme because space filled with stuff can’t be filled with steps. Wood floors, the tango feng shui. You can’t Calo on carpet, nor Lomuto on laminate. Whether dream home with two custom-built dance floors, or studio apartment with patio converted to miniature dance space, the aesthetics are the same. Racks of ladies heels on prominent display, mirrors everywhere, and wood bar bolted at hip height complete the curated set.

A strange man with abnormally dark round glasses on coffee mugs. A picture of a fat guy playing what looks to be an accordion. Walls adorned with photos and paintings of poses, embraces, lifts, and dips. Computer screen paused on a YouTube playlist with a little 030 inside a red circle in the top left corner. Old music playing from a new sound system. Tables littered with flyers for festivals, future and past.

Closets filled with baggy pants, slitted dresses, silk flowery shirts for both women and men. Skirts checked so heels don’t catch, outfits selected to easily fit in a suitcase. Clothes that normal people don’t wear, there to highlight that the inhabitants of this household aren’t normal.

A warm greeting from Pugliese the dog, Tanturi the cat, Goncho the bonsai tree, to name a few. Strange names of people talked about. Musicians, DJs, and dancers we have met, want to meet, wish we had met, are sad to have lost. Our famous aren’t famous, but they are famous to us.    

Tango seeps into our homes and into our lives. It changes how we dress and how we decorate. It changes how we hug when we say hi. It opens our thoughts and feelings, affects our dreams and our desires. A truth binding us together, wherever in the world and whatever journey we are on, that tango is more than just a dance.

By sericson0, ago

In defense of Steps

Figures, vocabulary, sequences, and anything else labeled as steps get a bad reputation in the social tango world. Steps rank last on most dancers’ list of what makes a good tanguero, if they make the list at all. The phrase “they just did a bunch of steps” is a common way to express displeasure for a performance, and it is even a mark of pride amongst some leaders of how few steps they do. The advice often given is it is better to do a few steps than do a lot of steps poorly. “Better to remain silent and thought a fool than to lead a bad boleo and to remove all doubt.” Or, as stated in Proverbs 17:28, “even a fool, when he holdeth his ganchos, is counted wise: and he that sustaineth his pauses is esteemed a man of understanding.”

We have all seen that dancer who tries as many figures as possible, irrespective of quality, connection, or music. None of us want to be that person, or dance with that person. We see these dancers and think they care too much about the steps. We believe they should focus less on the steps to be able to pay attention to more important parts of the dance, such as the music and connection. I want to argue a different position. I care a lot about the steps I do, and by the end of this essay I hope that you do too. My thesis is that the problem is not dancers caring too much about their steps, but the problem actually is that dancers care too little about the steps they do. Steps are not simply sequences to half-learn in class, try at the milonga, and forget a week later. They are conduits for understanding ourselves, for sharing with the world, and for connecting with our history and the rich history of dance. Every step can reveal truths about ourselves.

Remembering a sequence is not the end, but the beginning of the journey. Dive deeper. Analyze more. Discover the reason behind each loss of balance, each moment of discomfort, and the cause of each mistake; then change yourself so that will always work. Visualize each movement in detail, and identify any part where your mental image is murky. This highlights the questions to ask and the areas to work on to complete your picture. Work with other dancers to get their insights and methods for doing the same steps. Understand the step inside and out so that it becomes a tool you can always use. This process can be slow, and you may come back to the same step many times year after year to discover new truths. The process of analysis and discovery is how we show our care for the steps we do. The person who mindlessly leads half-baked step after half-baked step is doing it because they haven’t put enough care into understanding the steps they do.

We each have a mental framework of how the dance works, but some frameworks are better than others. Limited mental frameworks hold us back far more than any limitations in ability or physicality. Steps are a way to expand our understanding of what is possible. Like how logicians use counterexamples to prove a theory false, steps that don’t fit within our understanding act as counterexamples to our limited frameworks. The best teachers give us steps that fail when our understanding of the dance is incorrect but will unlock easily once we have the correct framework.   

Steps are the vocabulary for expressing ourselves. Having a full vocabulary allows for full expression, and a fuller vocabulary allows us to see and think things we otherwise would not have. Different steps can capture different parts of the music, and knowing more steps helps us better hear the music. Different steps bring out different emotions, and knowing more steps help us connect to our own emotions and those of our partner. Throwing around steps without care is like throwing words around without knowing their meaning. We may judge someone for using words incorrectly, but it is not the fault of the words. The solution is not to use a smaller vocabulary, but to gain the understanding of what the words mean and use them appropriately.

Each step has a story. There are several steps that I have created myself—likely I was not the first to discover them, but I discovered them without being shown by someone else. I remember each time I first dreamt the idea up (sometimes literally as I often visualize movements before going to bed). I remember the details I changed and the pieces I polished to shape them how I want. I take pride in the steps I have discovered, and I take care in their continued growth and development. I find joy sharing these ideas when I dance, and in feeling the interpretation and additions of my partner.

Each step has a history. I remember the steps shared with me, and the people who showed me. I remember the place and the feelings and the energy. This history comes with me whenever I dance. I honor where I come from and those who have taught me by caring for their steps. For remembering, implementing, and adapting their ideas. Recently a teacher was showing me a movement and she said, “This is a very old step that I absolutely love.” It is a tiny movement, but a movement passed on from dancer to dancer, until she passed it along to me. This tiny movement allows me to connect into a whole lineage and bring their spirits with me wherever I dance. Each step allows me to be a part of tango, its past present and future. This is why I care about the steps I do.  

By sericson0, ago

The Inner World of Tango: Finding your flow

Indeed, one of the highest pleasures is to be more or less unconscious of one’s own existence, to be absorbed in interesting sights, sounds, places, and people. Conversely, one of the greatest pains is to be self-conscious, to feel unabsorbed and cut off from the community and the surrounding world.

Alan Watts, The Wisdom of Insecurity

Tango is a gateway to a state of consciousness where mind and body are fully engrossed in the present moment. It is a world filled with senses—the sounds of the music, the sight of our partner and the ronda, the smell of perfume, the inner senses of balance, acceleration, and stretch. It is a world filled with feelings—the pressure of our feet on the floor, our partner’s hand on our back, the warmth of connection, the texture of their movements. We feel curiosity, suspense, excitement, pride, nostalgia, safety, gratitude, joy, happiness, love. Our mind is fully active, but we are resensitized to the world so that our thoughts are saturated by the experiences of the moment leaving no room for regrets about the past or concerns about the future. This world of flow, once discovered, brings tango dancers back night after night in search of the opportunity to reenter. For many, access to this inner world of tango is THE point of the dance and the meaning behind the movements.

The journey to the inner world of tango can be a frustrating one. The trail is difficult to find and there are many ways to lose the path. And when we do arrive, we can be taken away at any moment. We can’t think our way there because those thoughts take up the space in our mind that is needed to fully experience the moment. I can’t tell you how to find your inner world of tango, but I can offer a guide to help you find the path, and help you reorient when you lose the trail. I can offer some reminders that can act as a catalyst to reconnect to sensations and allow them to engulf our thoughts.    

Comfort, excitement, and safety are the keys to the inner world of tango while pain, boredom, distraction, and fear bar entry. You begin preparing for your journey to the inner world of tango well before getting on the dance floor. Your state of being before the dance will affect how you show up in the dance. Did you get enough sleep? Are you fed and hydrated? Have you warmed your body up and taken care of any aches or pains that may distract you from the present moment? You make choices that allow the experience to occur. What milonga are we going to? What tanda are you dancing to? Who are we dancing in front of and behind? Who will be your companion on this journey?

When I was young in tango, I thought that everyone should dance with everyone, and that people were just being “snobs” and being too selective. This was because I still thought of the dance in terms of its steps and movements. Later I realized that the journey to the inner world of tango requires comfort and safety in your partner. We can practice with and experience joy dancing with a wide range of people, but the truth is that there is a much smaller group with whom we are able to travel deeper. Each dancer finds their own path to the inner world. I will share mine in case it is of help. I begin by putting my focus on my partner’s spine. The thread of connection to our partner’s center is fragile but

powerful. It contains information about their positioning and preparedness, their breath and heartbeat, their thoughts, and their feelings. Fully committing to the extrospection of my partner’s state of being can be enough to bring me into the inner world.

We need our eyes open for balance, to navigate, and to better read our partner.[*] But the milonga is filled with distractions for the eye. The sparkly clothes shoes of someone, the elegant movements of another, our friend who just walked in, the person taking photos of the dance floor.[†] I use what the great magician Juan Tamariz describes as the pianist’s inward gaze.

The pianist’s gaze is the gaze of someone who is concentrated on his own action, and on the instrument. This is the inward gaze…If it is intense, honest and strong, it may be very attractive too. It is as if we opened a door into ourselves and invited the spectator to come in.

Juan Tamariz, The Five Points in Magic

Use your eyes for the information you need without allowing the extraneous sights to distract you on your journey.

I bring my attention to the contact of my feet with the floor. To the contact of the embrace. To the feelings of my hand in theirs, their hand in mine, my hand on their back and their hand on my back, and the connection and intention of our bodies. I breathe life into these connection points, feeling the air flow into my feet, hands, arms, and chest. I allow the breath to bring with it the sensation of the present moment. I allow thoughts to calmly come and go without judgement, trusting that wherever I am in the moment is where I should be.

We seldom stay in our inner world for long. There are plenty of moments of distraction, boredom, fear, and pain to bring us back to earth. I am constantly entering and exiting my inner world. I often recheck where my focus is, remind myself of the inward gaze, reconnect with my feet and with the connection, and reconnect to my breath. I sometimes find myself focusing too much on these guides, which itself pulls me away from the inner world. I then feel the flash of self-judgement for thinking too much about ways to not think so much. This process is natural. It is a blessing that our internal thoughts are as complex as they are. I slowly find my way back. I ask you to come join me in this inner world of tango, if even for just a moment.

This article was greatly enhanced by the experiences and thoughts shared by Jacqueline Pham, Gabriel Gaumond, and David Zuckerman. Thank you all for your wisdom.

[*] I believe that it is best for both leaders and followers to keep their eyes open but maintain the inward gaze towards their partner.

[†] Still the biggest distraction I have experienced was the one case where a person decided to film me for the entire tanda. Needless to say, I was well removed from the inner world of tango for that tanda.

By sericson0, ago