The plan was to take my camera with me to the big tango event and alternate between helping behind the scenes, taking photos, and dancing. I ended up just taking pictures all night and learning so much about my camera. It was my first true attempt at photographing movement-- purposeful blurring, angling the camera to create interesting lines, allowing an arm to stray into the picture, focusing the available light to create moods...I'm just beginning to understand the technical intricacies of photography, and yet, it's one thing to finally grasp the intricacies-- a whole other thing to actually master them.
In between the workshops and the milonga (the actual dance), I re-bundled up in my dozen layers and ventured back out into the snow to walk the few blocks to Adam's place. The snow falling outside the dungeon-like building was breathtaking, as was the cold. The two of us are in a strange place-- neither here nor there, but someplace where we can both be happy. Talk about compromise. After this compromise was reached, we fell into our old, comfortable routine of cheesy pasta dinner and TED talks. TED talks are pure gold. If there is one TED talk everyone MUST watch, it is this one about the intelligence of crows. It blew me away, really. I have an incredible respect for these creepy, pesky creatures now. If there is a second TED talk everyone MUST watch, it is this one about the face of Leonardo da Vinci. Also blew me away. So by now, I am floating in the vicinity of Andromeda.
After drifting back to Earth, I tread the snowy grounds back to the dance hall and found the milonga in full swing. Tango is an interesting form of dance-- not spicy and sexy like salsa, nor goofy and acrobatic like swing, but it has a subtle grace and requires the utmost co-operation. You have to be super in-tune with your partner in tango, or else you'll miss the tiny hand gestures and tugs that allow you to know your partner's next move. It can be frustrating, especially because everyone has a natural tendency to think that their partner is the one doing it wrong, whatever "it" is, when in reality both must make adjustments. The most annoying phrase in tango is "it's okay", which is something I hear often as a semi-beginner. As in "it's okay, you'll do better next time, I'll be patient with you in the meantime." It's like a Jesus-lover patting you on the shoulder and saying "You're not a Believer, but it's okay, Jesus loves you," or "I'll pray for your salvation." Argh. Don't. Even. Bother.
What draws me to tango though, despite the frustrations, is its complexity and its semi-balletic movements. Of all dances, there is nothing that captures my fancy more than ballet. It's such a serious, strict art, but when I watch a professional ballet dancer move even in the most casual manner, I'm just overwhelmed by the absolute grace with which a human being can move. I don't think everyone is affected in this way by ballet. Many would find it boring or too serious; they'd prefer something cool and modern like hip-hop. I love hip-hop, but nothing exudes beauty like classical ballet. And if you've found an instructor who teaches "cognitively"-- why we're positioned at this angle in relation to the audience, how to use torque in pirouettes, how ballet is about "living line", and so on...and who is kind besides, you just never want to leave! Even if it means enduring horribly freezing winters and hot, humid summers.
Back in the dungeon, though we witnessed a different style of tango by the guest instructors. They weirded me out at first. She started running circles around the room and he danced around waving his arms like sea coral, bending and twisting. Then she sprawled on the floor and he did handstands. What the hell had I walked into? But eventually, I got over their overtly hippy ways because they turned out to be really fun teachers and their style of tango was lyrical and theatrical-- a bit cheesy, but still lovely and playful. In the first routine, he through up his hands at one point as if to say "I surrender" while she hung on to his neck. In the beginning of the second routine, she started out by kneeling and (what I interpreted as) tracing abstract designs into imaginary sand like the folks of Vanuatu. What really got me was how for the performance, he wore a dress jacket with a giant, red, heart-shaped garland embroidered on the back. In the end, I was sold.
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