A beautiful piece of music from the Lebanese movie, Caramel, which reminded me of some themes from my previous life, a life that now feels another world away. Where dancing tango could only ever remain a dream.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
New steps, new steps
Ever since I started researching tango years ago, I had heard it was hard. I don't think I was prepared for just how hard it is, and how there are periods of rapid progress and then nothing at all for weeks.
I got the hang of the very basic moves pretty quickly when I started, but now that we're moving into fancier territory and it's all starting to fall apart for me. This is enormously disappointing, since I love to dance and always considered myself to have good rhythm. Ganchos? Forget them. As for my much-hated figure of eights, four months in and I'm STILL not doing them right.
Add to this that I was out of action for a while because I busted my knees from over enthusiasm in class and so have now returned minus my red tango heels in a pair of flat battered grey boots. It did seem to help, but now my focus of attention on all the males (like there were so many of them in the first place, hmmph!!) has shifted too. Being a few inches lower has made my partners a few inches higher.
I was enjoying it so much, but lately I feel myself sliding backwards. I'm actually getting worse instead of better. It's been nearly a month since I had a tango high and much, much longer since Teacher demonstrated anything in class with me. Either he's reading my blog and keeping away so as to not terrify me (hi, Teacher! *waves*) or I've morphed into a dancer so craptastic that I would ruin any demonstration.
And all this just in time for the tango festival this weekend. I have almost no confidence left in my dancing since I have no way of telling how good or bad I am. But I do know that I'm not going to quit and if I have to work ten times harder then I'll do that too.
I got the hang of the very basic moves pretty quickly when I started, but now that we're moving into fancier territory and it's all starting to fall apart for me. This is enormously disappointing, since I love to dance and always considered myself to have good rhythm. Ganchos? Forget them. As for my much-hated figure of eights, four months in and I'm STILL not doing them right.
Add to this that I was out of action for a while because I busted my knees from over enthusiasm in class and so have now returned minus my red tango heels in a pair of flat battered grey boots. It did seem to help, but now my focus of attention on all the males (like there were so many of them in the first place, hmmph!!) has shifted too. Being a few inches lower has made my partners a few inches higher.
I was enjoying it so much, but lately I feel myself sliding backwards. I'm actually getting worse instead of better. It's been nearly a month since I had a tango high and much, much longer since Teacher demonstrated anything in class with me. Either he's reading my blog and keeping away so as to not terrify me (hi, Teacher! *waves*) or I've morphed into a dancer so craptastic that I would ruin any demonstration.
And all this just in time for the tango festival this weekend. I have almost no confidence left in my dancing since I have no way of telling how good or bad I am. But I do know that I'm not going to quit and if I have to work ten times harder then I'll do that too.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Man - O - War
I was in a cranky mood yesterday so ordinary situations that usually don't bother me were getting on my nerves.
Winter has finally decided to make an appearance in Athens, so it is pretty cold (relatively speaking). I always try to dress nicely for tango class because I work from home so I usually spend all day in crappy clothes. Secondly, years ago I'd read somewhere that you have to dress well to show your respect to the dance. But with this cold weather, dressing warm took the place of dressing well.
Anyway, I got to class and, surprise, surprise, no men again. Six women and two men, plus the teacher.
This is starting to get really irritating. Okay, it's better for the men, as they have to learn much more than we do. We just have to follow and if well led, even a beginner can look amazing. So it's nice that the men always have someone to dance with. But for the women... what to say.
It's not the school's fault. Men just don't take dance classes. But I'm so sick of doing figure of eights while waiting my turn for a man! Mercy! How many figure of eights can I possibly do? Especially when it's a really nice song and I just want to dance, it's almost depressing to be stuck on the bar, watching your badly dressed reflection and trying to tango with it.
I know this blog doesn't get many readers but I'm getting desperate. What would make the men come to tango? How about if we offered to dance naked, or drenched in beer, or naked and drenched in beer?
Winter has finally decided to make an appearance in Athens, so it is pretty cold (relatively speaking). I always try to dress nicely for tango class because I work from home so I usually spend all day in crappy clothes. Secondly, years ago I'd read somewhere that you have to dress well to show your respect to the dance. But with this cold weather, dressing warm took the place of dressing well.
Anyway, I got to class and, surprise, surprise, no men again. Six women and two men, plus the teacher.
This is starting to get really irritating. Okay, it's better for the men, as they have to learn much more than we do. We just have to follow and if well led, even a beginner can look amazing. So it's nice that the men always have someone to dance with. But for the women... what to say.
It's not the school's fault. Men just don't take dance classes. But I'm so sick of doing figure of eights while waiting my turn for a man! Mercy! How many figure of eights can I possibly do? Especially when it's a really nice song and I just want to dance, it's almost depressing to be stuck on the bar, watching your badly dressed reflection and trying to tango with it.
I know this blog doesn't get many readers but I'm getting desperate. What would make the men come to tango? How about if we offered to dance naked, or drenched in beer, or naked and drenched in beer?
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Tangorgasmic!
Tango highs, or tangorgasms. I've written about it before, but now it's getting crazy. What started out as a hobby has very rapidly turned into a constant quest to seek out bigger and better highs.
I remember the first time it happened. I was dancing in class and not really thinking much about it. Suddenly I felt it. The dance moved along, the music played. Everything around me disappeared. I could only hear and feel. It was if the room was spinning around me faster and faster, like being in a dream.
When it ended, my heart was pounding and I was breathless with euphoria. I was puzzled - how could just a dance make you feel so sublime? What was that feeling? Where did it come from? What was I thinking about before I started dancing? I couldn't even remember. All that was left was this lingering, delicious sensation of walking on a cloud.
That's where it was Game Over for me. Ever since then, like a maniac, my only aim is reaching that high again. If I could distill that feeling I would splash it all over myself and lie around all day feeling euphoric!
I remember the first time it happened. I was dancing in class and not really thinking much about it. Suddenly I felt it. The dance moved along, the music played. Everything around me disappeared. I could only hear and feel. It was if the room was spinning around me faster and faster, like being in a dream.
When it ended, my heart was pounding and I was breathless with euphoria. I was puzzled - how could just a dance make you feel so sublime? What was that feeling? Where did it come from? What was I thinking about before I started dancing? I couldn't even remember. All that was left was this lingering, delicious sensation of walking on a cloud.
That's where it was Game Over for me. Ever since then, like a maniac, my only aim is reaching that high again. If I could distill that feeling I would splash it all over myself and lie around all day feeling euphoric!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Typical Follower thoughts
Dancing at social dances with a partner who I've never danced with before, who is far more advanced than me and who I have spent the evening watching pulling all kinds of fancy moves is a terrifying experience for me that mercifully takes place rarely. I much prefer to dance with a partner from my class who I know, safe in the knowledge that we're both low enough down the chain to laugh our way around the dancefloor through our mistakes.
This is what my brain looks like as a beginner tango follower with an advanced leader:
Uh oh. Teacher/other experienced or unknown dancer is coming my way. Look away! Look away! Look up! Try to grab another man at your level! Oh shit! No men as usual. Too late. Okay, stay calm. No need to panic, you can do this. Put your poker face on. Legs, stay coordinated. Shoes, be good.
Ah ok so far so good. We're moving on the same feet. Not too bad here is this Bollybutton? Just gaze at that really interesting button on his shirt and let yourself g..what? Oh rats, I should have crossed there. Ok he doesn't look bothered, try again... missed again. Crap! Ok he's trying one last time... there you go. Phew!
I'm moving, this is fine, figures of eights I can do these thanks to all those hours practising due to the man drought since we... blocked? What do you mean blocked? So here I go, up and over and awaaaayyy...not away? Gancho time! Arrggh what a mess. I hate ganchos! Damn you ganchos!
Never mind, keep going Bolly. I see us settling into a nice rhythm here, keep your eyes on that button so that you... what the hell was that?! What did he just do? I don't know what he just did! Was I supposed to do something too? It looked fancy so maybe we haven't been taught how to.. oh. It's over.
After the Christmas party, Teacher threatened to ask one of the Unknown Fancy Men to dance with me at the next party to help me learn to dance with different levels. Okay, he didn't threaten, he made a valid point. But it sounded like a punishment to me.
Once again this weekend the school threw one of their parties. It was all going so well and then one of the Unkown Fancy Men approached. I waved my hands around in the fashion of saying "I'm a beginner! You don't want to do this!" before my friends shoved me onto the dancefloor. I thought ok, he doesn't know me so as an advanced dancer he will take it easy with me.
Ha!!
Tango babies are easy to single out. We dance in an open embrace and our heels are not the pencil stiletto type that the advanced ladies wear while holding their partners close. I stepped onto the floor in my baby heeled shoes and took up my usual open embrace position. Unknown Fancy Man (UFM) suddenly pulled me into a close embrace and without giving me a second to realise what was happening, he launched us onto the dancefloor.
Quelle horreur! In a close embrace you can see nothing. You're looking over your partners shoulder and dancing chest to chest, so there goes any peripheral contact with what his feet are doing. Add to this my newly discovered trick of dancing without glasses and I was as blind as a bat. I'm sure it's a wonderful way to dance once you've been taught how to compensate for this.
UFM was pulling fancy moves left right and centre. It was a nightmare! I had not the slightest idea what I was doing or what I was supposed to do. I threw my pals "Save Me!" looks of panic when we danced past them. It was as if my precious months of tango dancing had been flushed down the toilet. All the while UFM was soldiering on. And my thoughts read like this:
Whoops
Ooops
Ummmm
Whoops
Whoops
Yikes
I think I just stepped on his foot
Help me!
Why is this song so long!
I have a feeling this particular UFM will never ask me to dance again. When the song ended he smiled, shrugged and departed. He looked a bit disappointed, but personally I think he should have cut me some slack, because I struggled from the beginning so it wasn't even as if I was faking that I knew what I was doing. My face was burning from the misery of a ruined dance and soon after, the party ended and I went home.
Close embrace is the way I would love to dance tango one day eventually. But not without knowing how to do it right.
This is what my brain looks like as a beginner tango follower with an advanced leader:
Uh oh. Teacher/other experienced or unknown dancer is coming my way. Look away! Look away! Look up! Try to grab another man at your level! Oh shit! No men as usual. Too late. Okay, stay calm. No need to panic, you can do this. Put your poker face on. Legs, stay coordinated. Shoes, be good.
Ah ok so far so good. We're moving on the same feet. Not too bad here is this Bollybutton? Just gaze at that really interesting button on his shirt and let yourself g..what? Oh rats, I should have crossed there. Ok he doesn't look bothered, try again... missed again. Crap! Ok he's trying one last time... there you go. Phew!
I'm moving, this is fine, figures of eights I can do these thanks to all those hours practising due to the man drought since we... blocked? What do you mean blocked? So here I go, up and over and awaaaayyy...not away? Gancho time! Arrggh what a mess. I hate ganchos! Damn you ganchos!
Never mind, keep going Bolly. I see us settling into a nice rhythm here, keep your eyes on that button so that you... what the hell was that?! What did he just do? I don't know what he just did! Was I supposed to do something too? It looked fancy so maybe we haven't been taught how to.. oh. It's over.
After the Christmas party, Teacher threatened to ask one of the Unknown Fancy Men to dance with me at the next party to help me learn to dance with different levels. Okay, he didn't threaten, he made a valid point. But it sounded like a punishment to me.
Once again this weekend the school threw one of their parties. It was all going so well and then one of the Unkown Fancy Men approached. I waved my hands around in the fashion of saying "I'm a beginner! You don't want to do this!" before my friends shoved me onto the dancefloor. I thought ok, he doesn't know me so as an advanced dancer he will take it easy with me.
Ha!!
Tango babies are easy to single out. We dance in an open embrace and our heels are not the pencil stiletto type that the advanced ladies wear while holding their partners close. I stepped onto the floor in my baby heeled shoes and took up my usual open embrace position. Unknown Fancy Man (UFM) suddenly pulled me into a close embrace and without giving me a second to realise what was happening, he launched us onto the dancefloor.
Quelle horreur! In a close embrace you can see nothing. You're looking over your partners shoulder and dancing chest to chest, so there goes any peripheral contact with what his feet are doing. Add to this my newly discovered trick of dancing without glasses and I was as blind as a bat. I'm sure it's a wonderful way to dance once you've been taught how to compensate for this.
UFM was pulling fancy moves left right and centre. It was a nightmare! I had not the slightest idea what I was doing or what I was supposed to do. I threw my pals "Save Me!" looks of panic when we danced past them. It was as if my precious months of tango dancing had been flushed down the toilet. All the while UFM was soldiering on. And my thoughts read like this:
Whoops
Ooops
Ummmm
Whoops
Whoops
Yikes
I think I just stepped on his foot
Help me!
Why is this song so long!
I have a feeling this particular UFM will never ask me to dance again. When the song ended he smiled, shrugged and departed. He looked a bit disappointed, but personally I think he should have cut me some slack, because I struggled from the beginning so it wasn't even as if I was faking that I knew what I was doing. My face was burning from the misery of a ruined dance and soon after, the party ended and I went home.
Close embrace is the way I would love to dance tango one day eventually. But not without knowing how to do it right.
No Escape
I tried my best but it's hopeless. I admit defeat. I am neck-deep in a thick velvety tango obsession. It's crept into every free inch of brain space I had left. Yesterday I had to practically crowbar my eyes away from time wasting tango surfing looking for tango shoes.
So how is it going, you cry? I'd say not too bad. I place myself about medium in the class, which is a fine place to be. Just before Christmas was my most enjoyable lesson ever - two girls and 4 men so the tables were turned and for the first time ever I danced for an hour straight without dangling around the bars waiting for a man to be freed up.
We learnt what is for me tango's most iconic move - the gancho. This basically looks like you're trying to rub something nasty off the bottom of your Comme il Fauts with a scraping movement, kicking the leg back and under the leg of your partner. It's beautiful if done right.
Unfortunately I can't do it right, the same way I can't do crosses right. Tsk tsk tsk "What was that?" demanded the teacher when I slung back a flimsy foot. Whoops. No contact. The whole leg of the woman is supposed to move back, not just bend at the knee.
Anyway, that aside the Christmas party milonga/salsa party at the school was really a lot of fun despite my first hideous experience. I have found that dancing blind ie. removing my glasses really does help and I executed one dance which I personally give myself 9/10 for, though to be honest, as a follower if your leader is good you can't really take much of the credit.
On Wednesday Teacher told us that in two weeks' time, the school will be holding exams for anyone interested to get official recognition of their tango level. A fancy idea, which I won't be pursuing as I don't deal well with pressure at all. I pretty much faint with horror every time I get asked to dance in front of other, far better and far superior dancers. An exam would just about make my heart explode.
But this piece of info wormed its way into my dreams which are so stupid I just have to share them with you. In my dream last night I was in class and Teacher came up to me and said "You really should take the exam. I think it's a good idea. These will help you." and he slipped two MAC lipglosses into my hand.
Don't ask. My dream world is a strange and psychadelic place. I don't even own a MAC lipgloss let alone wear them. But my exact thoughts in the dream were "Damn, the school paid for MAC lipglosses so I better take the exam now".
Other than that, the most exciting news is this: the 5th tango festival of Athens rolls into town in February www.athenstango-festival.gr . Featuring a bunch of goodies, but most importantly for me, these guys:
Swoon!!!!!! Can you believe we in Athens will get to see this greatness face to face? That's why I need new tango shoes - my current pair is actually ballroom tango. Though I have a feeling that I will be coming up with many, many more excuses to buy tango shoes. Ladies, the shoes alone are reason enough to come to class. Every time I close my eyes I see Greta Floras and Neotangos.
As for the men... I'm willing to do just about anything to get more men to come to class. Tell me, what would convince you?!
So how is it going, you cry? I'd say not too bad. I place myself about medium in the class, which is a fine place to be. Just before Christmas was my most enjoyable lesson ever - two girls and 4 men so the tables were turned and for the first time ever I danced for an hour straight without dangling around the bars waiting for a man to be freed up.
We learnt what is for me tango's most iconic move - the gancho. This basically looks like you're trying to rub something nasty off the bottom of your Comme il Fauts with a scraping movement, kicking the leg back and under the leg of your partner. It's beautiful if done right.
Unfortunately I can't do it right, the same way I can't do crosses right. Tsk tsk tsk "What was that?" demanded the teacher when I slung back a flimsy foot. Whoops. No contact. The whole leg of the woman is supposed to move back, not just bend at the knee.
Anyway, that aside the Christmas party milonga/salsa party at the school was really a lot of fun despite my first hideous experience. I have found that dancing blind ie. removing my glasses really does help and I executed one dance which I personally give myself 9/10 for, though to be honest, as a follower if your leader is good you can't really take much of the credit.
On Wednesday Teacher told us that in two weeks' time, the school will be holding exams for anyone interested to get official recognition of their tango level. A fancy idea, which I won't be pursuing as I don't deal well with pressure at all. I pretty much faint with horror every time I get asked to dance in front of other, far better and far superior dancers. An exam would just about make my heart explode.
But this piece of info wormed its way into my dreams which are so stupid I just have to share them with you. In my dream last night I was in class and Teacher came up to me and said "You really should take the exam. I think it's a good idea. These will help you." and he slipped two MAC lipglosses into my hand.
Don't ask. My dream world is a strange and psychadelic place. I don't even own a MAC lipgloss let alone wear them. But my exact thoughts in the dream were "Damn, the school paid for MAC lipglosses so I better take the exam now".
Other than that, the most exciting news is this: the 5th tango festival of Athens rolls into town in February www.athenstango-festival.gr . Featuring a bunch of goodies, but most importantly for me, these guys:
Swoon!!!!!! Can you believe we in Athens will get to see this greatness face to face? That's why I need new tango shoes - my current pair is actually ballroom tango. Though I have a feeling that I will be coming up with many, many more excuses to buy tango shoes. Ladies, the shoes alone are reason enough to come to class. Every time I close my eyes I see Greta Floras and Neotangos.
As for the men... I'm willing to do just about anything to get more men to come to class. Tell me, what would convince you?!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Tango High - Totally Legal!
Wednesday's class went better as they usually tend to do. Same number of mistakes, same levels of anxiety, but yesterday, after a week of stress and bad news, I decided to dance out my anger and disappointment. Dance is therapy, right? Might as well exploit the lesson to get rid of my sadness.
Apart from tango for 3 months, I've been taking bellydancing for three years. I love to dance and I love the natural high it brings. I had never heard of a tango high until I experienced it. The high I get with bellydancing is more energetic and more instant, like an exploding bomb of sequins. Since you dance it on your own, you know you're guaranteed a high as long as you want it.
With tango it's turned out to be different, unexpected and in some ways more intense. It creeps up on you, ending in a crescendo of feather-light highness. The teacher led me into a dance on Wednesday (read: dragged me screaming by the hair; my stress levels were off the scale) and a few moments into the song, I was stumbling around and said "I don't know what I'm doing".
He told me not to think, just follow through with whatever feels natural. So I did. I switched my brain right off. I tried to loosen up and simply follow, though I knew I was making mistakes. As the song played and I tried to relax, I felt myself lightening. For a few brief moments it felt like I was far, far away from all my troubles and cares.
And you know what? It was 100% purely, double distilled bliss. In a life with so much responsibility and stress, sometimes it's the perfect remedy not to think at all, not to be responsible for where you'll go next, not to know what the next move will be but not to care either, to not be afraid of where the next step in your life is coming from.
All too soon, in what felt like a matter of seconds, the song was over, and with that it was back to the real world. A tango high I've found seems to happen all in the brain. With other dancing when I'm happy I feel it rushing in my veins. With tango, I feel lightheaded but not dizzy, refreshed as if I just took a nice hot shower.
I'm starting to understand the attraction of tango. I've never learnt a dance before that involved two people. Who knows? Maybe we carry with us energies that we can exchange when we connect in different ways?
Apart from tango for 3 months, I've been taking bellydancing for three years. I love to dance and I love the natural high it brings. I had never heard of a tango high until I experienced it. The high I get with bellydancing is more energetic and more instant, like an exploding bomb of sequins. Since you dance it on your own, you know you're guaranteed a high as long as you want it.
With tango it's turned out to be different, unexpected and in some ways more intense. It creeps up on you, ending in a crescendo of feather-light highness. The teacher led me into a dance on Wednesday (read: dragged me screaming by the hair; my stress levels were off the scale) and a few moments into the song, I was stumbling around and said "I don't know what I'm doing".
He told me not to think, just follow through with whatever feels natural. So I did. I switched my brain right off. I tried to loosen up and simply follow, though I knew I was making mistakes. As the song played and I tried to relax, I felt myself lightening. For a few brief moments it felt like I was far, far away from all my troubles and cares.
And you know what? It was 100% purely, double distilled bliss. In a life with so much responsibility and stress, sometimes it's the perfect remedy not to think at all, not to be responsible for where you'll go next, not to know what the next move will be but not to care either, to not be afraid of where the next step in your life is coming from.
All too soon, in what felt like a matter of seconds, the song was over, and with that it was back to the real world. A tango high I've found seems to happen all in the brain. With other dancing when I'm happy I feel it rushing in my veins. With tango, I feel lightheaded but not dizzy, refreshed as if I just took a nice hot shower.
I'm starting to understand the attraction of tango. I've never learnt a dance before that involved two people. Who knows? Maybe we carry with us energies that we can exchange when we connect in different ways?
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