What motivated you to take up Argentine Tango? What, for a lack of a better term, seduced you to concentrate on Argentine Tango?
I first started dancing tango in Buenos Aires when I was about thirteen years old. I was there for the summer to study Spanish, and my dad insisted that I look into tango lessons, so I asked my Spanish school for a recommendation.
Even though I don’t remember learning my first tango steps, I do remember my first teacher. She was an astounding young woman and I remember wanting to dance–and to be–just like her. I took private lessons that whole summer, then returned the next summer to Buenos Aires to study Spanish again, though really I had gone back to dance!
I don’t really remember a time when I didn’t know how to dance tango, though my life is definitely divided into a pre- and post-tango period. Now, I dance around eight hours a week. It’s less an obsession than it is simply part of my life, like a relationship you have with a best friend or a sister. In fact, it’s like a relationship in a lot of ways: sometimes, tango is a wonderful experience, full of nothing but joy and beauty, but sometimes it’s very rocky and difficult.
I’ve never danced any other dance, and I don’t think I want to–unless it will help me improve my tango. My relationship with the dance is kind of a one-sided monogamy: I’m exclusive with tango, but it’s seeing lots of other people!
I don’t really believe in dance as catharsis: I don’t dance to "express myself" or "blow off steam". I like a quote from Fred Astaire, where he said, "I have no desire to prove anything by dancing…I just dance. I just put my feet in the air and move them around." When I dance tango, I just dance to be there, in that moment, dancing tango. Sometimes it seems like a good metaphor for life: connecting with another person, listening to your partner, supporting your own weight and finding your own balance. But I think I mostly dance to feel like a part of something larger than myself. Tango isn’t flashy, it doesn’t make a good show, but it feels right.
the raw sensuality
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What’s with all the tango questions?
References :
I first started dancing tango in Buenos Aires when I was about thirteen years old. I was there for the summer to study Spanish, and my dad insisted that I look into tango lessons, so I asked my Spanish school for a recommendation.
Even though I don’t remember learning my first tango steps, I do remember my first teacher. She was an astounding young woman and I remember wanting to dance–and to be–just like her. I took private lessons that whole summer, then returned the next summer to Buenos Aires to study Spanish again, though really I had gone back to dance!
I don’t really remember a time when I didn’t know how to dance tango, though my life is definitely divided into a pre- and post-tango period. Now, I dance around eight hours a week. It’s less an obsession than it is simply part of my life, like a relationship you have with a best friend or a sister. In fact, it’s like a relationship in a lot of ways: sometimes, tango is a wonderful experience, full of nothing but joy and beauty, but sometimes it’s very rocky and difficult.
I’ve never danced any other dance, and I don’t think I want to–unless it will help me improve my tango. My relationship with the dance is kind of a one-sided monogamy: I’m exclusive with tango, but it’s seeing lots of other people!
I don’t really believe in dance as catharsis: I don’t dance to "express myself" or "blow off steam". I like a quote from Fred Astaire, where he said, "I have no desire to prove anything by dancing…I just dance. I just put my feet in the air and move them around." When I dance tango, I just dance to be there, in that moment, dancing tango. Sometimes it seems like a good metaphor for life: connecting with another person, listening to your partner, supporting your own weight and finding your own balance. But I think I mostly dance to feel like a part of something larger than myself. Tango isn’t flashy, it doesn’t make a good show, but it feels right.
References :