Social Tango and Performance Tango

The more I reflect on the challenges facing tango today, the more I recognize the importance of distinguishing between social tango and performance tango. Advocates of performance tango often argue, “Why draw a line? They are all tango. Tango is one.” But that’s simply not true. Social tango and performance tango are fundamentally different forms of dance, each with its own distinct purpose. They differ in nearly every respect: structure, embrace, appearance, feeling, steps, techniques, methods of leading and following, and underlying philosophy (see Three Theories on Leading). Any definition that fits one inevitably excludes the other. In fact, those who have learned only one form cannot dance the other without additional training. Instead of promoting performance tango to beginners, it is better to be honest so that students understand what they are truly getting into.

Social tango is a popular dance form designed to suit the tastes, needs, and abilities of ordinary people. It is a spontaneous and improvisational dance, typically danced in a close embrace with substantial physical contact, fulfilling a deep human desire for connection and intimacy. It is danced for personal pleasure in the milongas, guided by the milonga codes. While incorporating technical and aesthetic elements, its steps are simple, allowing dancers to focus on inner experiences—emotions, feelings, intimacy, comfort, and connection. Dancing social tango is a deeply personal and soulful experience. What matters is how it feels, not how it looks (see Highbrowism and Populism in Tango).

Performance tango, by contrast, is a highbrow dance form created for the stage. It is a theatrical rendition of tango, featuring intricate choreography and advanced techniques suited for trained professionals. Unlike improvisational social tango, performance tango is choreographed and rehearsed, typically danced in an open hold to enable expansive movements. Its steps are wide, elaborate, and often dangerous, requiring ample space. It is not intended to provide an intimate, soulful, or personal experience, but to showcase flashy figures and dazzling movements to entertain an audience. This form of tango does not adhere to the milonga codes and is ill-suited for crowded dance floors. Safety, comfort, and user-friendliness are not its priorities. What matters is how it looks, not how it feels.

I believe learning performance tango—especially before mastering social tango—is not in the best interest of most students. It is a waste of their time and money for several reasons. For one, very few students aspire to become stage performers. Moreover, the habits acquired from learning performance tango—such as relying on arms and hands to lead and follow, neglecting torso-based communication, emphasizing appearance over feeling, ignoring the comfort and safety of others, and using difficult or dangerous movements—can hinder one’s enjoyment of social tango and create disturbances in the milonga. Without a strong foundation in social tango, meaningful performance is also unattainable.

For the vast majority of students, social tango should be the focus of their learning. This is because their goal is to dance in milongas for enjoyment, not on stage to entertain an audience. They need a user-friendly dance that suits their abilities, not a difficult and inaccessible form. They seek connection and intimacy, not a showy, uncomfortable display of ego. Furthermore, developing proficiency in social tango provides a solid foundation if they ever decide to pursue performance.

In the United States, the blending of social tango and performance tango has caused numerous problems in our milongas. In Buenos Aires, the two forms are distinct. Social tango is danced in the milongas, while performance tango is reserved for the stage (see The Styles of Tango). Professional performers who dance performance tango on stage exclusively dance social tango when attending milongas. Teachers in Buenos Aires are transparent about what they teach—those who teach social tango specify it as such, and those who teach performance tango make that clear as well. They do not “hang up a sheep’s head to sell dog meat.” Separate competitions are organized for each form. I believe this separation is how tango should be handled everywhere.

Highbrowism and Populism in Tango

Art forms that resonate with the general public’s tastes, needs, and educational backgrounds are often categorized as popular arts. In contrast, highbrow arts are distinguished by their refined sensibilities and exceptional skill requirements, often surpassing the capabilities of the average individual. For example, highbrow music typically demands a complexity and range that only a select few performers can achieve, whereas pop songs, with their simpler techniques and narrower vocal demands, are accessible to nearly everyone.

The belief that intricate and demanding art is inherently superior to straightforward and accessible forms, however, is misguided. Painting does not automatically surpass photography, and pop songs can be just as compelling as operatic pieces. In fact, simplicity and accessibility often yield extraordinary results. Simplicity is not synonymous with artistic inferiority, nor does ease imply a lack of skill. On the contrary, achieving both often requires a high degree of sophistication. Truly accomplished artists make their craft appear effortless, and those who masterfully distill complexity into simplicity often demonstrate greater virtuosity than those who do not (see Simple Is Beautiful).

Individuals who believe in art for art's sake often overlook a fundamental truth: art—especially popular art—is ultimately created for people. What value does a pop song have if it is too complex for the general public to enjoy? What's the worth of a social dance if only an elite few can perform it? Argentine tango is a prime example of a social dance; it was created by sailors, gauchos, immigrant workers, and street women. It maintains its grassroots essence in Argentina even today. Most people who dance tango are ordinary people. They love tango because it is a simple and easy dance that serves their need for connection and affinity with other souls.

Those who regard themselves above the crowd try to make tango increasingly intricate and challenging. I question whether this serves the dance well. Tango will continue to evolve as an art form, of course, but transforming it into a highbrow dance akin to ballet is, in my view, a step in the wrong direction. The vitality of tango lies in its popularity and sociability, without these qualities, it risks becoming a detached, impractical art, a castle in the air.

Schopenhauer’s well-known remark, “Man is either vulgar or lonely,” invites multiple interpretations. It may encourage embracing individuality rather than conforming to the crowd. It could also warn against excessive aloofness that leads to isolation. Alternatively, it may suggest the importance of striking a balance between refined and popular tastes, avoiding extremes. In the context of tango, the latter interpretation seems most fitting. As a Chinese proverb wisely puts it, “Water that is too clear has no fish, and a man with overly high standards has no followers.” Perhaps Schopenhauer’s words, too, should be read as a cautionary note.

Tango and Romanticism

Romanticism emerged in the late 18th century as a cultural and artistic movement that celebrated the human spirit. It championed emotion, imagination, heroism, and idealism in response to the dehumanizing forces of industrialization, which favored mechanization and efficiency over the complexities of the human condition. At its core, Romanticism sought to reclaim the richness of human experience, the beauty of feeling, and the depth of emotional expression—an influence that has proven both transformative and enduring across literature, art, and culture.

In our postmodern age, where technology, superficiality, and speed often overshadow deeper values, the ideals of Romanticism feel more relevant than ever. Nowhere is this more evident than in tango—a dance rooted in longing, emotion, and human connection. Tango was never intended solely as a form of entertainment. It arose as a deeply expressive language for the yearnings, dreams, and desires that lie at the heart of human experience, embodying the very essence of Romanticism (see Tango Is the Search for a Dream).

Yet today, critics often point out that some tango performances have veered toward spectacle—featuring gymnastics or acrobatics that, while impressive in physicality, miss the soul of the dance. These performances prioritize external display over internal emotion. True tango is not about dazzling tricks; it’s about the invisible thread that binds two dancers in connection and intimacy. It evokes the drama of a beautiful romance—two partners navigating challenges together, united in support, trust, and emotional presence. Tango, at its best, is a dance of shared feeling—a Romantic art form that stands in stark contrast to athletic display. Rather than turning outward in pursuit of applause, tango invites dancers to turn inward, drawing on the human spirit, connection, and emotional resonance (see The Conceptual Beauty of Tango).

When stripped of these deeper qualities, tango risks becoming just another sport or show—technically skilled, yet emotionally hollow. In a culture increasingly dominated by games over classics, sport over art, and technology over humanity, there is a danger that tango will lose its soul. Many raised in such an environment are drawn to novelty, speed, and change, often at the expense of substance and timeless beauty.

To safeguard tango’s classic elegance, we must rekindle the Romantic spirit in both our teaching and dancing. This means embracing simplicity and naturalness, valuing elegance over extravagance, and allowing genuine emotion to guide the movement. While trends may come and go, Romanticism remains a timeless expression of our shared humanity. It endures, quietly awaiting rediscovery. And when brought to life through tango, it elevates the dance into a profound and poetic celebration of human connection—resonating deeply across time (see Embracing Elegance).