Tango is not only a fascinating dance but also a fascinating philosophy, culture and lifestyle. The search of tango is the search of connection, love, fellowship, unity, harmony and beauty, i.e., an idealism that is not consistent with the dehumanizing reality of the modern world. The world divides us into individuals, but tango unites us into a team. In tango we are not individualists, feminists, nationalists, Democrats, Republicans, etc., but interconnected and interdependent members of the human family. Tango calls us to tear down the walls, to build bridges, and to regain humanity through altruism, connection, cooperation, accommodation, and compromise. It is a dance that teaches the world to love.



October 29, 2009

Mirta


At Milonga de los Consagrados, a woman caught my attention. Her body was so flexible that she could twist her hips over 90 degrees against her upper body. In such a twisted posture, she could step in any direction while maintaining a connection with her partner through her torso.

When performing the ocho, she swiveled her hips and took a step to one side of her partner, then swiveled her hips in the opposite direction and stepped to the other side. At the end of the ocho sequence, she always returned promptly to the home position—the symmetrical alignment with her partner—but she did so in a unique way. She first overtwisted her hips slightly while allowing her free leg to bend in front of her standing leg. Then she turned her hips back to face her partner, releasing the bent leg. She executed this complex movement with such style and ease that it appeared effortless. No matter how fast the music was, she remained unhurried, giving herself time to complete each movement while staying perfectly on beat. Her musicality was extraordinary.

I admired the way she danced and wanted to dance with her, so I gazed at her. Finally, I caught her attention. As our eyes met, I cabeceoed her, and she nodded back. I stood up and walked toward her, keeping my eyes on her the entire time until I was standing in front of her. She smiled, stood up, and walked into my arms. We began to dance.

She was an incredible dancer—light and perfectly in tune with me, as if she anticipated every step I intended for her. Each time I led her through an ocho, I gave her extra time to showcase her style. We danced in perfect harmony. When the tanda ended, she said she wanted me to have her card. I walked her back to her seat, where she took out a card from her purse and handed it to me. On the card was printed, "Mirta Mark, Profesora Nacional de Danzas." "Let me know where you will be," she said, "so we can dance again."

We danced again a few days later at Club Gricel. She wasn’t feeling very well that night, but she came anyway because I was leaving Buenos Aires the next day. Unfortunately, the floor was too crowded that Saturday night, and we couldn’t dance the way we wanted. I sent her an email the next morning to say goodbye. In her response, she wrote, “These things do not happen every day… If you think the same way, let’s continue to write… and who knows, we may again have the opportunity, in Argentina or the USA, to enjoy our dance and maybe an exquisite dinner…”

I miss that wonderful tanda with her and look forward to dancing with her again someday.