Rose Vine Tango

As you may already know, my favorite style of social tango is called "tango salon", and in particular the "Villa Urquiza" style of tango salon. Elegant and often sensual, with close embrace that sometimes opens, long gliding steps, sharp and clean embellishments, and precise musicality. It's the style I teach to my students. I've just started calling it "Rose-Vine Tango" because it works like this:

Think of a vine on which roses can grow. The vine, including its supple, intertwining branches and the leaves, represents the tango walk around the edge of the room , with its many variations (in both parallel and crossed systems) and embellishments ("drawing" to the music, mostly on the floor but sometimes in the air, with the man's or woman's free foot). The vine can also represent traveling figures (such as "cambio de frente", "base cruzada", and walking "ochos", and many more!).

Now think of a rose that appears on the vine. That's a stationary figure, one done within a square meter, (such as any giro (turn)/molinete (woman's turn around the man), forward ocho from the cross and parada/s, the sandwich, the ocho cortado, etc, etc, etc.). So the couple can be "walking the vine", and their tango suddenly erupts into a rose . . . or into a CLUSTER of roses, by which I mean an uninterrupted series of figures, or a combination of segments of figures, smoothly tied together. When the room is more crowded, a good dancer shortens the lengths of vine between the roses; when there's plenty of space, he makes the most of his walks, leaving long lengths of vine, and lets the "roses" be more sparse, each one very important.

The vine segments are linear and transitory, the roses are circular and stationary.

What I do not like to experience or see is . . . a wreath, all roses packed tightly together, with no vine!  That is, a tango packed with figure after figure after figure, with no walk and few pauses, leaving little breathing room for that intimate, delicious communication so many of us seek through the body-dialogue of tango!

Now I have an assignment for you! Please watch this video of Jorge and Marita Dispari, and see if you can identify where's the vine, and where are the roses!! 

Jorge Dispari and Maria del Carmen (Marita), orchestra Juan D'Arienzo with Alberto Echague.

Happy Thanksgiving [enjoy the video!]

Here are Javier and Andrea in Moscow last May. They're two of my favorite artists who come from the Villa Urquiza tradition. 

I love what they're doing from 2:44 till 3:11 when the bandoneons play in double-time! I'm looking for more videos that show the double-time segments actually being danced in double time. Please post examples if you come across them!


Javier Rodriguez and Andrea Misse dancing to D'Arienzo's "La Bruja", in Moscow, May 2011.

The Power in Your Gap

I’ve just started a new practice of meditating - this time, only 15 minutes a day.  I think that in the past I had difficulty maintaining a meditation practice in my life because it was a long process.  I'd start by watching my thoughts bounce around like multitudes of ping-pong balls and often it would take me 20-30 minutes just to have fewer balls bouncing.  Then I'd get the sensation of descending by elevator one floor down to a shallow part of the sea, where I’d feel more peaceful, and now watch the fishies (no longer ping pong balls) swim by in moderate numbers. After another 15-20 minutes or so, I'd descend yet another level (with that same elevator sensation) to where the fish were very sparse and the creatures were more sedentary, and I’d finally feel a deep sense of quiet and peace.

What I’m noticing now in my 15-minute meditations is that as the ping-pong balls dart around and I focus on breathing in a particular pattern (3 counts in, 5 counts out), to the music of a guided meditation CD by Abraham-Hicks, is a recurring moment where I experience a great sense of relief, regardless of any racing thoughts:  It is in the GAP between the exhalation and the next inhalation. 

In that one still, silent second I become aware of a delicious sense of wellbeing, of calm, of perfection.  It doesn’t matter that it occurs in the midst of active thoughts, because in the desire to hold on to that surprising sense of perfect peace, I begin to ignore my thoughts, and they start to fall away.  The interval between my breaths when I’ve emptied my lungs feels so good mentally that I want to stay there.  

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I've written a number of articles over the last year in which I mention "The Gap", "The Interval", and "The Split Second Difference in your Tango".  It's all the same thing.  I've updated one of those articles from my archives today, because in my recent teaching I've found it to be a concept worth revisiting. I think you'll see why. 

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My sculpture teacher in Paris in 1974, the late George Spaventa from New York, talked about what he called the "Interval", or sometimes the "Interstice", and once gave an illustration that I have never forgotten, with photos in a book on early 20th century modern sculpture.  Over the years, my awareness of "the interval" grew, when I looked at art, or in other contexts, and it finally occurred to me during several private tango lessons with my students last year, that this same concept applies to our dance; the interval is essential to dancing meaningful tango. 

What do I mean by "interval"?

I'd define it as the "breathing space" between two active parts, the space that sets them apart from each other, and in doing so gives each part more life. If you focus on the intervals in the image of the "Belvedere Torso" (see photo), that is, the divisions between any two adjacent forms on the figure, you'll see that they're not just lines on the surface, but rather narrow planes that help to contour the edges of each volume, or that act as a valley between the forms. The intervals help to define the form, and if not for the intervals, the forms would rather blur together. Instead, each muscle-form on this famous sculpture is clearly defined and full of life. 

Belvedere Torso, Vatican Museum, Rome

An interval is also the breath we take between phrases when we sing a song:

"Happy birthday to you. . . (breathe); "Happy birthday to you. . . (breathe).

An interval is the punctuation in our sentences when we write.

So where is "the interval" in tango, and why is it important?

I call the interval in tango-walking, "The split second difference in your tango".  It is a fleeting pause, during which I advise you to momentarily ground yourself on your standing leg, locking into your "infinite vertical axis" for a split second, as the leg of your free leg reaches the lowest point of its "pendulum swing". 

One of my students refers to it as "the pause that isn't".  He got it.

The interval, if you choose to employ it, makes a huge difference in your balance and in your self confidence when you dance. I can tell you after many years of teaching tango that good balance and self-confidence go hand in hand.

The interval should also occur in the woman's molinete, when she walks around the man (traditionally taught with a forward, side, back, side sequence of steps, punctuated by pivots). She can, and should, articulate her pivots with the split-second interval in her infinite axis. She can also repeatedly claim that split-second when she "passes through her center" between her steps around the man, rather than falling from one location to the next, which we see too frequently in not-yet-enlightened dancers!  

And for both partners, creating brief or longer intervals between any two movements, rather falling from step to step through a sequence, allows you to ARTICULATE your tango, as if you were saying to each other, "I'm here. . . and I'm here . . .  and now I'm here."  

The GAP is where the tango dancer can feel most secure, and enjoy the greatest communication with his/her partner.  The great connection happens not so much in the dynamic movements, but in the momentary silent intervals between them!

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In the video below, I show you an illustration of "the interval" in Tango-walking, pointing out where to watch for it.  (I teach you how to accomplish this in your very first introductory lesson.)  Claiming this interval with every step, by the way, assures even beginner men that they will never step on the woman's feet!

Here's how you can see what I'm talking about:  In the following video with Sebastian Arce and Mariana Montes, in the segment between 17 and 30  seconds, the segment in which the violins are playing the melody and the bandoneons are marking the downbeat (accented beat) and the upbeat (unaccented beat), notice where the couple is on every upbeat.  They grab it as an interval. They each remain still, "in axis", for a fraction of a second, exactly timed with the downbeat. 

Sebastian Arce and Mariana Montes, dancing to Buscandote, by the orchestra of Osvaldo Fresedo.

Again, notice the moment of interval between steps in the segment between 17 and 30 seconds.  Afterward, notice how often Sebastian is still, when he seems to be doing nothing; he is "painting with her feet", marking the music by leading Mariana's steps.  During other intervals, Mariana paints the air with her free leg.  If there were no interval, she would have no time to beautify their tango with her very musical embellishments, which must be done while she is solidly grounded, or locked in to her Infinite Axis.

Please watch this tango a few times and see all the places where you can indentify the interval (mainly pivots and pauses)!

And please post your comments here. I would love to hear your thoughts!

My grandmother's anniversary dance with another man

Yesterday, a flash of typically Floridian sunlight on the pavement threw me back to the sensations of childhood visits to my grandparents, who had retired to North Miami Beach. 

I then remembered when I flew down from college one weekend in 1975 to attend my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary party. They were really my father's aunt and uncle, but since his own parents had perished in WWII, I had always known this couple as my grandparents, whom my father and mother called "Aunt Selma and Uncle Joe".  As a teen, I would explain this incongruity to my friends saying that they were my "surrogate grandparents". 

Nanny Selma and Papa Joe were a very united couple, who took great care of each other and bickered constantly. They were childless, and so my father's role became that of their only son, and my three brothers and I were the light of their lives. We often found them waiting for us at 3 o'clock when we came home from school, which would delight us. My grandfather, who was born on New York's Lower East Side, called me "Princess" and he called each of my brothers "Bub".  My grandmother had left Poland in 1923 to join her brothers in New Jersey, while her sister Helen ("Hinda" in Yiddish, after whom I was named), my father's real mother, was still alive back home. Selma and her American husband Joe kept sending money to bring over her favorite nephew, who finally managed to get a visa in 1938. I am grateful to them for having saved his life. (There were very few Treitmans in the U.S. in 1938, and now there are many!)

I remember noticing when I arrived at their 50th anniversary gala a strangegray-greenish undertone to my grandfather's complexion that I would later recognize in others as a visible sign of cancer not yet detected. He was happy this Saturday night, surrounded by loving family and so many dear friends. My grandmother was tiny, slim and radiant in her evening gown of a shimmery, crisp silky fabric of the most beautiful chartreuse I had ever seen, etched with an embroidered gold-and-white floral pattern, and with a flattering, scooped neckline that framed her face and a favorite necklace my grandfather had given her. She had gotten so slim back in her 50's after a series of surgeries for ulcers. My grandparents posed for the photographer, embracing happily in one of their poses perfected over 50 years, and danced the first dance, my grandfather good-naturedly doing his usual obligatory shuffle.  There was a live band, and all the couples joined, dancing foxtrots and cha-cha's throughout the dinner.

Sometime around dessert, the band surprised everyone by playing a lively polka, an anomaly to me and most of the guests from our suburban New Jersey culture. I turned from my chocolate mousse to witness my little 75-year-old grandmother whirling around the dance floor in the arms of Sidney Unger, a childhood friend from the countryside near Krakow.  They spun expertly along the edge of the floor like a tornado, leaving us all breathless. When the polka ended, my grandmother (whose health had always been delicate) collapsed, laughing gaily, into a chair at her grandchildren's table.  "Nanny Selma!", I demanded, totally amazed, "When did you ever dance like that?" I grew up thinking that there was no dance culture in our family.  "Oh", she panted, still smiling with all her teeth, and relaxing against the back of the upholstered chair, "Sidney and I used to dance like that all the time when we were kids."  

I had never seen my grandmother dance more than a shuffle. I wondered why she had not married Sidney.  I knew that my grandfather had won her heart in 1925 through his kindness and extreme attentiveness.  Yet today I still wonder whether, had my grandfather learned to dance at any point during their 50 years together, they would have avoided much of the tension and bitterness that laced their relationship.

When I began teaching in Naples in 2009, a very lovely local couple joined my Introductory Tango Summer Class. They were already avid dancers of Ballroom and other dances. "We've been married 45 years!" the charismatic husband told me proudly. I asked them later that evening, "Do you think that dancing together has played a role in your harmonious relationship?"  I was surprised that the answer came from his quiet, reserved wife; her big eyes widened enormously and she looked into mine and said, "Oh, yes!!"

Please forgive me if it seems I sometimes tend to moralize.  I know that many people are as reluctant to dance as I am to play sports.  But in my 11 years of teaching Argentine Tango, one thing I discovered is that some people who have never imagined themselves dancing anything discover in Argentine Tango  - so different from every other kind of dance -  an intimate medium with which to express their feelings, intellect, and creativity, and to explore and more fully realize their masculine or feminine identities. Most everyone I know who dances Argentine tango talks about how it's enhanced their relationship with their mate or with the opposite sex in general. For many of my students and friends, like for me, discovering Tango meant discovering - and owning - a reliable, ongoing new source of joy.

If you've been reading my newsletter for a while, you're here for a reason! I get feeback all the time that my approach to teaching Argentine Tango is uniquely effective.  Why not try my 90-minute "Transformational Introductory Tango Experience".  Details and easy online registration and scheduling athttp://naplestango.com (See "How to Get Started").

Your feet, your walk, your happiness

Often on Wednesdays, I listen to Dr. Christiane Northrup's internet radio show,"Flourish", at http://www.hayhouseradio.com.  Several weeks ago I loved her talk about feet. (Dancers think a lot about feet.)  I took lots of notes with asterisks for further research.

One thing Dr. Northrup talked about was the swing time of our gait, and how formal studies have shown that a longer swing of the leg is an indication of a happier person! This fascinated me.  In my own classes I have found that my students of all levels seem to get addicted to our walking exercise at the beginning of every lesson and practica, and newbies get entranced by practicing the tango walk too.  I have observed this for years, even back in Italy.  

For 3-4 tangos, I watch from the sideline, and call out, or go tell them privately, suggestions to improve their walks, or I compliment them when they're doing something particularly well. As the months go by they all develop beautiful walks and much better musicality.  I've observed that at all levels, starting the session with 10-12 minutes of what I call "walking consciously" actually guarantees that they'll dance smoothly, with better focus and better balance!

My goals for my students in this initial walking exercise include:

   1) their taking longer, smoother strides, both forward and backward, letting their free leg swing like a pendulum,

   2) their initiating the leg swing from the upper body, using their natural "spiral", which we normally perceive as the opposite-arm-swing in a healthy walk,

- and one of my "secret weapons", an essential for dancing outstanding tango,

   3) their practicing "the split-second difference in your tango", which means taking that extra mini-moment to relax their free leg and ground themselves on their standing leg, thereby locking into their "Infinite Axis", between every two steps.  The deliberate grounding in between steps reinforces our psychological sense of "I AM HERE" (rather than "I'm going, I'm going, I'm going"), which we automatically convey to our partner, so it's also a very important relational part of our tango.  My walking element #3 is what changes a good street walk to a great tango walk.  Earlier I spoke about "the split-second difference in your tango" earlier this year, calling it "the interval" or "the gap" between two dynamic elements (e.g., steps). I explained how more communication happens between partners during "the gap", than occurs during any dynamic movement.

This focused grounding between steps also allows us to walk backward withlonger steps and greater confidence. This is obviously important for women, who in tango walk backward 70-80% of the time.  But I also maintain that training tango men to develop skillful, elegant and grounded backward walking  (though they hardly walk backward in social tango) helps ingrain in a man's body a well-rounded vocabulary of tango movements that will begin to help him easily execute any figure in his improvisation.

Inspired for the last year about Dr. Northrup's discussion of the "healing power of pleasure" in our lives, I now share with my students something I personally enjoy in the moment of grounding:  the brief sensation of deep pleasure we can get from completely relaxing all the muscles in the groin of the leg we release, as we feel the "space" between our pelvis and our thigh.  What a way to master your balance:  feel the pleasure in around your hip joint as you release any tension there!  Aaaahhh . . .  You have no idea how much adding this one little awareness can uplevel your dancing, in addition to subtly increasing your enjoyment of dancing.  That split second of "Aaaahhh" in our hip joint gives our partner an unconscious reassurance that we are stable, and it increases the pleasure within the couple.

Also for many years, I have compared the sensation of reaching back withour free leg as we walk backwards to the pleasure we feel when we stretch our arms and upper bodies - that great feeling in our anterior deltoid muscle (where the front of our shoulder meets or armpit) and inside our elbows when we stretch is similar to what we can feel in the anterior muscles of our hip/thigh connection (ileopsoas) and behind our knee, as we stretch our free leg back!  Aaaaahhhh . . .!  

"Walking consciously" at the beginning of my lessons seems to get everyone high and happy, and when they've done our walking exercise, their dancing is always better than when they start dancing "cold".  And we're doing it in leather-soled shoes, which Dr. Northrup said in her radio show are superior to synthetic-soled shoes for healthy walking, because leather soles allow us greater energetic (did she say electro-magnetic?) connection with the earth.

I would wager that the "happiness indicator" of the long stride Dr. Northrupdescribed, also works in reverse - that is, by developing longer strides with a free swing, we can bring more happiness into our lives.  It certainly works during or our walking exercises and has lasting effects in the dancing that follows!

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Now here's a man with a beautiful walk, Jorge Dispari.  

Jorge's wife Marita, whom you see with him in this video, is a great tango dancer, but specifically for a woman's walk I prefer Amanda Costa's (see her with husband Adrian, also a fabulous walker, on my blog at: http://www.helainetreitmantango.com/2011/09/knockout-simple-tango-bonus-one-and-why.html, and a few others, including Jorge and Marita's two daughters Geraldin Rojas and Samantha Dispari.  (They've got the gliiide, that I'll tell you about in another article!)

You can begin to experience the exact walking exercise I describe above by signing up for my "Transformational Introductory Tango Experience".  Details and easy online registration and scheduling at http://naplestango.com (See "How to Get Started").