The Alienation of Tango

Tango faces serious challenges in the liberal West. In a sense, it has become a self-inflicted dance. The steps of tango do not have fixed configurations, and its music allows for interpretation, giving dancers the freedom to improvise and create as they dance. This untrammeled nature of tango has led to dramatic changes, particularly now, as free-spirited foreigners pour in, introducing a profusion of outlandish influences.

No matter what people do, there are always some who take it to the extreme—tango is no exception. While we humans seek freedom, unrestrained freedom often defeats itself. Our forefathers recognized this danger, which is why they established systems of checks and balances and the rule of law. Tango, outside of Argentina, however, remains uncharted territory, where individuals can act at will. Some replace the tango embrace with an open dance hold, supplant traditional tango music with alternative tunes, redefine gender roles, and incorporate non-tango elements such as underarm turns, high kicks, and body lifts into the dance. Now you go to the milongas in the US, you often hear exotic music of foreign lands and see rogues of all kinds dancing wildly. It is still called tango, but the essence of the dance has been altered. There is little resemblance to the tango danced in Buenos Aires’ milongas.

Tango is a free dance, but it is not a “do-whatever-you-want” dance. It has distinct characteristics. For example, it is a close-embrace dance. Breaking the embrace and distancing partners is not tango (see The Fourteenth Pitfall of a Tanguera). Tango is an intimate, emotional, and soulful dance. In fact, tango is more about feelings than steps. No matter how many new steps people try to create, without feelings it is not tango (see Tango Is a Feeling). Tango is a heterosexual dance danced by a man and a woman, allowing his masculinity and her femininity to glitter in each other's company (see Tango and Gender Interdependence). The man is the leader who plots the dance and shines the woman. The woman is the follower who surrenders to the man, synchronizes her movements with his and beautifies the dance. Refusing to surrender, switching gender roles and forming same-sex partnership are against tango (see The Gender Roles in Tango). Tango is danced to the sentimental music specifically created for the dance. Foreigners often don't realize that the magic of tango lies in its music, which connects the dancers, stirs up their nostalgic feelings, resonates with them, inspires their creativity, and enables them to fully showcase their dance skills. Changing tango music to outlandish tunes, the dance ceases to be tango (see The Signature of Tango).

No one can prevent the evolution of a dance that encourages free expression. Only time will tell which changes endure. Tango has undergone this trial for 150 years. Whatever changes that people try to bring to tango today must have been tried by others before, most of which did not last. The current form of tango—including its music, embrace, steps, and protocols as practiced in Buenos Aires—is the survivors of fitness among zillions of attempts to alter the dance along its history. Tango will continue to evolve, of course, but it will evolve in the same direction that made it tango. Any attempt to change tango into a non-tango dance or hybrid will fail. If not so, tango would have stopped being the tango danced in Buenos Aires today long ago.

A Cabeceo Story

I didn't know her name. She looked to be in her mid-30s, sitting with her friend, who appeared to be about the same age. They sat across the room in the women's section, chatting and not dancing. I got the impression they hadn't come to dance but rather to spend time together and watch others dance tango, which is not uncommon in Buenos Aires.

She glanced at me while they were talking. But it didn’t seem like she wanted to dance; it felt more like she was simply staring in my direction. I ignored her and searched for other potential partners. Occasionally, her friend went to dance, but she didn't accept any invitation, just sat there watching. When her friend returned, they would pick up their conversation again.

I danced a lot that night. Every time I returned to my seat, the two women were still chatting, and that woman was still looking in my direction. I continued to ignore her because I didn't think she wanted to dance, or perhaps even could dance. Instead, I kept my eyes on her friend, whose dancing impressed me. The woman must have noticed because, at one point, I saw her talking to her friend while glancing at me, as if she was telling her I had been watching. Her friend only gave me a brief look before quickly turning away. Yet, the woman herself continued gazing at me.

It suddenly dawned on me that perhaps she was interested in dancing with me. She might not be a skilled dancer, but I was ready to give it a try since she'd been looking me for so long. I nodded at her, and she nodded back. To confirm she was responding to my cabeceo, I looked around to see if anyone else was interacting with her, but I found no one doing that. So I stood up and walked toward her. She stared at me the entire way until I reached her table. "A very patient, brave, confident, and persistent girl," I thought. That was one thing I learned about cabeceo that night.

I had misjudged her. She turned out to be an exceptional dancer, even surpassing her impressive friend. Her elegant and stylish footwork showcased solid techniques that could only come from years of training. In fact, only a professional could display such control, elegance, and precision. During our brief conversation, she revealed that she was a stage dancer. I was curious why a young stage dancer like her would come to a social milonga to dance tango milonguero. "This isn’t your style. Why do you come here to dance?" I asked. She paused for a moment before replying, "There are too many young dancers on stage. I can’t compete with them anymore. I’m getting old."